Sweet Downfalls
by lieselmemingers
Summary: Lupin/Tonks. 'It doesn't bother me in the slightest. In the same way it doesn't bother you that I can change my face. It's just something that makes you who you are, Remus.' Their story; from clumsy beginning, into their eventual relationship.
1. Vow of Silence

**This is the first chapter of what I'm expecting to be a very long story. I wanted to write the entire story of Tonks and Lupin in depth, so here's the first installment! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter One: Vow of Silence

'Nymphadora, I really do think that we should be trying to keep a low profile...'

'Nonsense, Remus! This is our job, isn't it? It's what we volunteered for! And don't call me Nymphadora. Honestly, you need to take a more direct approach sometimes. It really does pay off and-'

Nymphadora Tonks winced as the crash echoed around the room, the ear-splitting sound of metal dishes and tins bouncing off the harsh hospital floor. Her stomach did a back flip as she landed with a heavy thud on her bottom, her palms also taking a bruising as they shot out in a gallant attempt to protect the rest of her. Everyone in the long, wide corridor turned their attentions the commotion, in the middle of which she sat, a fallen Auror, looking apologetically at her new partner in the Order of the Phoenix, Remus Lupin.

'Ah,' he mumbled, offering a long fingered, weathered hand. She took at gratefully and allowed him to help her up.

He smiled in what looked like stifled amusement. His hand scratched the back of his head in response, she assumed, to the eyes that she could feel shooting them disapproving looks with enough intensity to melt a block of ice.

Tonks brushed the dust from her robes with an ease born of many years of practice. 'Very dusty floors,' she commented disapprovingly, shooting a look at a nearby cleaning lady, who was looking at her in unmasked disgust. Tonks took out her wand and, trying to morph away the blush that was flooding to her cheeks, restored the fallen trolley to its upright position and returned every piece of metal equipment to its original home.

Remus urged her along with a hand at the small of her back. 'Perhaps we should be going?' he smiled. They began to walk, ignoring the stares that they collected as they made their way through the winding corridors.

Her new partner, Remus Lupin, was unceasingly polite. It baffled her how a person could remain so serene all of the time. She had joined the Order of the Phoenix just under a week ago. Kingsley Shacklebolt, who she had always held in high regard as a senior Auror, had taken her aside a few weeks ago. He had asked whether, hypothetically, if a dark force was working beyond the Ministry's control, she would be prepared go against the Ministry to defeat it. She remembered, with amusement, the affronted look on the man's face as she had told him to stop talking in riddles and get on with whatever it was he was trying to say. He had threatened to report her for insubordination, but had winked playfully at her nonetheless.

Remus had been assigned to work with her as soon as she had joined. She had been told that she needed to work with someone of experience, who had been a part of the Order before. Looking at him, it seemed difficult to imagine him in the middle of a war. Tonks had developed great respect for the man, and was sure he was capable of great things, but personally believed that to truly throw yourself into a duel, you had to let go of yourself completely and let instinct take over. Once you learnt the basic skill and technique, it was like riding a broomstick; you never forget.

They were weaving through the wards quickly now, and one glance at Remus' profile revealed his determination to accomplish what they had been asked to do. She found it difficult to look away; his expression held so much emotion behind his carefully arranged features. She wondered, not for the first time, how much he had been through last time.

Their task was simple; to question a suspected Death Eater. She shuddered internally at the prospect, but maintained the calm that she had carefully developed throughout her Auror training. She could do this; she reminded herself. She was just as qualified to question this man as Remus Lupin. More qualified, in fact, if she was thinking technically. There was no reason to feel overshadowed by his experience.

'He's been on our list of suspects for a while now, ever since the last time Voldemort was in power. We never managed to find any proof; he kept avoiding capture. We're going to get in, find out what he knows, and get out, alright?' He spoke softly, his voice slightly hoarse.

'I still think that a more forceful approach would have its benefits,' she hissed back. 'He's not going to tell us anything willingly, is he? Nothing barbarian obviously, but you'd be surprised how effective a good, loud interrogation can be.'

His blue eyes twinkled in amusement as he looked down at her. She swallowed deeply, her mouth suddenly dry. 'You'd be surprised at just how suggestible St. Mungos pain relief medication can make you. He was taken in for serious injuries; his blood will be swimming with the stuff. '

She sighed, resolving to say nothing more on the subject unless his plan fell through.

It didn't take much longer before they arrived at the intended ward. The beds lined the long room and various figures in different states of distress and unconsciousness lay in the plain white beds, covered in burgundy blankets. At the end of the ward, a gruff looking man sat. He was the only one in the ward sitting upright, and a look of utter contempt and disgust scarred his face as he stared straight ahead. His right leg was cut off at his knee, bandaged into a pitiful-looking stump. There were several deep-looking gashes that ran across his face. They weren't bleeding, obviously enchanted by magic so that they wouldn't heal properly.

The man didn't look up as they reached his bed.

'Kendrick Honeysuckle?' Remus asked sharply. Tonks winced; no wonder he turned to the dark arts, with a name like that.

The man showed no change in his face, but spoke huskily; 'Who's asking?'

'That's really none of your concern!' Tonks piped up, quite suddenly, surprising herself. Remus shot her a look and she took the hint, silencing herself while the heat grew behind her face again. She was embarrassing herself in front of him.

'We're looking for information,' Remus continued calmly. 'We have strong reason to believe that you have been conspiring against the Ministry of Magic under the command of Lord Voldem-'

'You dare speak his name?' Honeysuckle screeched, his eyes suddenly alight with fury and desperation. Fear and anger frothed from his lips.

Remus remained seemingly unaffected. Tonks was impressed by his composure, positive that her own face was showing signs of alarm. Honeysuckle was reaching, scrambling for the wand that was sitting, just out of his reach on the bedside table. Remus calmly collected it, putting it in the pocket of his robe, out of sight.

Honeysuckle collapsed in apparent defeat, teeth bared in pure fury. He stared at Remus, who remained impassive and collected. 'What d'you want to know, eh? You should know I'll tell you nothing!'

'So you admit, you've been working under the command of Lord Voldemort?' Remus asked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a polite smile. Tonks could see danger in his eyes, though.

Honeysuckle said nothing, merely folded his arms across his broad chest, his middle-aged features set in stone. Quite suddenly, his head turned to Tonks. She started, unprepared.

'Who's this pretty little creature, eh?' he asked loudly, a cackle erupting from his scarred mouth. 'Rethink the pink hair, though, swee'heart. Looks a wee bit trashy for a ministry worker! Bloody scum, all of you!'

The anger bubbled up through Tonks' veins, hot and unstoppable. 'As much as I appreciate your hair styling advice, _Honeysuckle_,we really don't have time to mess around. Now, here's how it's going to work,' she drew out her wand and pointed it directly between the man's eyes. 'You tell us what you know, or you kiss goodbye to your left eye, understand?'

She could see, in her peripheral vision, Remus pinch the bridge of his nose. She tried to not let it waver her threatening glare. It was an empty threat, she knew. And, based on the grin still plastered across his face, Honeysuckle suspected as much.

Luckily, she was saved the embarrassment of having to lower her wand by Remus, who stole the man's attention by speaking in a low, dangerous voice. 'Yes,' he said, 'we're quite prepared to use force to get you to tell us what you know. We have put a silencing charm on this entire ward; no one will come to your aid.'

He was utterly convincing, Tonks decided, contrary to the fact that everything he had just said was a lie. There was no silencing charm, and if Honeysuckle decided to put this to the test, they were done for. Luckily, Honeysuckle just coughed achingly, the grin slipping from his face as he looked into Lupin's immovable expression.

'Look,' Honeysuckle began, glancing at Tonks' wand, which she still hadn't lowered, for fear of breaking the threatening atmosphere that they had deceived their way into. 'I don' know much, alright? I can't tell you where they are. They wouldn't tell me themselves. Truth is, well, I didn't wanna get involved in all tha' again. I got a daughter, y'see. An' well, as you can guess, they weren't best pleased when I told 'em no. '

He indicated to his injuries and looked pleadingly at Tonks. She didn't like the way his eyes roved over her face, but didn't look away nonetheless.

'So you know nothing?' Remus surmised quietly, indicating for Tonks to relax. She did so, but still held her wand on him, wary about whether he could be trusted.

'Oh my _goodness_!' a voice screeched from behind them. Tonks whipped around. A plump healer was rushing towards them, dropping an enormous pile of bed linen and drawing out her own wand. 'Step away from my patient immediately. Yes, you, girl! And put your damn wand away, immediately, or I'll call the authorities.'

'Look, its okay,' Tonks stated. 'I'm an Auror. I work for the Ministry.'

'All questionings from the Ministry of Magic must be cleared with us first!' the woman screeched, her ruddy face turning an even deeper shade. 'I was not informed that any questionings were taking place today! Therefore you have no right, miss - no right at all! And threatening my patients. Good lord, I should report you straight away!'

Panic flooded through Tonks, and she suddenly felt extremely foolish. She had gone about this all wrong and gotten herself into a bad situation. She should have followed Remus' lead and kept calm. A quick glance around the ward told her that all eyes were on her. She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

'Excuse me?' Remus' soft voice eased her panic like a drug, spreading through veins. She saw his eyes flash to the woman's name tag. 'Healer Merlson? I'm sorry if there's has been a misunderstanding. You see...' he lowered his voice, casting a conspiratorial glance around the room, 'we're on an extremely important job. Naturally, we would have cleared this with you directly if we could have, but too many questions would have been asked. For you to report my partner here would be extremely inconvenient. And we wouldn't want the Minister for Magic to be inconvenienced, would we?' he flashed the healer a disarming grin, his eyes bright and captivating.

Tonks gaped at him; he was utterly charming. How could he lie so smoothly? She was a perfectly adequate liar, but would have paled in comparison to _that_.

The nurse stood, her mouth open slightly and Tonks smirked as her eyelids fluttered, seemingly coming back to reality. 'The Minister? Well...' the Healer began, her hand over her heart, 'I wouldn't want to make any trouble I suppose...'

She turned back to Tonks, the simpering look on her face mysteriously vanishing. 'See that you apologise to my patient. And consider the ethics of aggression in hosptials before you terrorise my patients again, please.'

Tonks shot her the most polite smile that she could manage. They were joined by another healer, who began conversing with Healer Merslon in hushed tones.

Tonks took her place next to Remus, glancing behind at Honeysuckle, who was grinning rather enthusiastically at her bottom. She shot him a dangerous look.

'We should go.' Remus had leaned down to whisper in her ear.

She nodded in agreement, wanting nothing more than to get out of the blasted hospital. Before they could move, however, the two healers turned towards them with wide eyes. The newly arrived healer was young, blonde and pretty, despite the withering expression that she wore on her face. All admiration which had previously been on Healer Merlson's face has disappeared, replaced by shock and disgust.

What surprised Tonks was that these looks were directed at Remus.

'I think we're going to have to ask you to leave now,' the blonde healer stated coolly. 'I saw you in the paper last year. We don't want to make a scene. Leave, please.'

'What?' Tonks asked blankly. Remus had been in the Prophet? For what? 'I think you're a bit confused.'

She shot the blonde girl a look of contempt for being so rude; Remus had been more than civil about this whole situation.

The healer looked back her in surprise, her lips pursed tightly. 'I think that it would be best for everyone if a scene wasn't caused. Mr Lupin, if you are not here for medical attention – please leave immediately. Or we will have someone remove you. We consider it dangerous for werewolves to be here at this time of the lunar cycle.'

_Werewolves?_

Before Tonks could even open her mouth to say anything, Remus was guiding her firmly towards the exit of the ward, a strong hand in the crook of her elbow. She tried to twist free, and casting one last glance behind her, she saw the disgusted face of the blonde healer, the scandalized face of Healer Merlson, and the harsh features of Honeysuckle, staring blankly ahead, once again at nothing.

Once they were halfway down the corridor, Tonks gave an almighty tug, breaking free of his grip. She didn't appreciate being manhandled.

'What the hell was all that?' she asked incredulously, looking up at him. He wouldn't meet her eyes, the strong line of his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth together. 'They said..._werewolf_?'

Remus sighed and ran a hand wearily over his jaw. He looked around at the people surrounding them and said, defeated; 'Lets discuss this somewhere else.'

They ended up on a stone bench, near the mock-shop window entrance to the hospital. Crowds of muggles passed them by, all looking extremely busy and important. Remus leaned forwards, elbows resting heavily on his knees. 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I know that I should have, with you and I working so closely together. I am a werewolf, yes, and it's an infliction that has held me back my entire life. I suppose it was a novelty to find someone who wasn't aware of my condition; especially after all of the coverage it got after the incident at Hogwarts.'

Tonks listened, completely shocked. She hadn't even suspected; some Auror she was.

'You have to understand, Nymphadora, that there is a great deal of prejudice against my kind. It's an instinct to stay away from me. I didn't want you to begin your work in the Order feeling...uncomfortable.'

Tonks found her voice from somewhere. 'You...you thought that I wouldn't want to work with you if I found out?' she asked incredulously, tinges of anger creeping into her blood.

He grimaced, shrugging his shoulders. 'It's a prejudice of my own, I suppose,' he admitted, his eyes twinkling again in amusement 'to assume that I will frighten people.'

She smiled at him tentatively, a nervous laugh bubbling. 'Don't be a prat, Remus; of course I still want to work with you.'

An emotion crossed his face that she couldn't quite read. It was gone in the blink of an eye. He stood, suddenly business-like. 'We should get back to Headquarters. They'll be waiting for our report.'

Tonks blinked, startled by the sudden end to their conversation, and wondered if they even _had_ anything to report. They had gotten nothing out of Honeysuckle. She was curious as to what he was planning to say to the Order. Tonks shuddered as she thought of the large panel of members, obviously watching her every step to see if she would slip up and make a huge mistake. Unfortunately, slipping up was one of her talents, in the very literal sense.

They found a sheltered spot, away from prying muggle eyes, and disapparated, Tonks' mind still reeling.

* * *

Chairs scraped across the stone floor as people settled into their seats. Tonks settled gratefully into hers, looking around the table at the members gathered. There were a few empty seats at the end of the long table, furthest away from the welcoming fireplace. Sirius met her gaze and winked warmly, looking every bit the proud cousin. She smiled back enthusiastically. Next to him – opposite her – Remus sat. His attention had been caught by the fireplace, evidently. The firelight was reflected in his eyes, catching the grey strands of hair and setting them with a rich glow. Shadows played in the hollow of his cheekbones and suddenly, it wasn't quite so difficult to imagine him as a werewolf. He was thin and tired looking; his eyes holding age beyond his years. He had obviously seen too much bad in the world. He hadn't spoken to her since earlier. It worried her.

Quite unexpectedly, his eyes flashed straight into hers, sending a bolt of electricity coursing through her veins. She looked away quickly, taking in Molly Weasley, bustling about by the stove. Tonks knew that Molly would only abandon her cooking responsibilities and take her seat at the table when the meeting began. She liked Molly; her motherly warmth made her it extremely difficult not to. She wasn't sure, however, that Molly reciprocated her admiration. She had always been very short with Tonks, and had a knack for seeming constantly exasperated by her.

The other Order members chatted enthusiastically between themselves. Mad-Eye Moody sat next to her, so quiet and still that she almost hadn't noticed him. Mad-Eye had been her teacher for her first few years of Auror training. She had always respected him; his oddness only serving to endear him to her. He had always been rough and brutal in his criticism of her, but she easily brushed it off, never able to take him completely seriously.

She leaned over to Mad-Eye. He didn't look at her, but tilted his ear towards her slightly. She had a feeling that his magical eye was watching her through his own skull, and shivered slightly. 'What is everyone waiting for?'

Moody grunted, shifting slightly in his seat; 'You and Lupin aren't the only ones giving a report tonight, girly,' he replied gruffly, taking a swig from his flask.

'Then who are we all waiting for?' she asked, scanning the room for any obvious vacancies. Dumbledore wasn't here yet, but it wasn't irregular for him to be absent.

Moody shifted uncomfortable in his seat and said nothing. She looked to Sirius, her eyes questioning. He looked equally as displeased. 'Snape's supposed to be calling in for his little monthly segment: 'Look who's Getting Away with Murder'. It's a hoot, Tonks, really,' he told her, grimacing.

'_Snape?_' she repeated incredulously. 'He's in the Order?'

Sirius raised his eyebrows briefly in understanding at her astonishment. He took a long swig of fire whisky and, holding the burning liquid in this mouth, offered the bottle to her. She smiled in amusement and declined with a shake of her head. When he offered it to Remus, he took it, never looking away from the fireplace. He took a quick sip and handed it back.

'Severus provides us with invaluable information into Voldemort's whereabouts and intentions,' Remus said quietly, ignoring Sirius' disbelieving snort.

Something struck her; 'Remus, if Snape knows where Voldemort is, then why did we have to go and question Honeysuckle?'

Sirius collapsed into a fit if giggles.

Remus ignored him and answered her, his eyes still glued to the fireplace. 'We went today because his defences were low. We weren't in there to get him to admit to anything...'

Tonks frowned, confused. 'Then why...'

It hit her suddenly; 'You used legilimency?' she asked, impressed. She was weak at the skill.

'It wasn't difficult. His barriers were extremely damaged by Voldemort,' Remus smiled, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in a long while, warm and gentle. 'Well done, you're thinking less like an Auror and more like an Order member.'

Moody grunted in approval and took another sip of his flask. Tonks beamed in delight.

Arthur Weasley was arranging his spectacles on his nose, shuffling parchment and clearing his throat. The whole room quietened, turning to face him. Arthur looked mildly nervous, staring mostly at his papers. 'Well, we should make a start,' he called down the table. He stood with his back to the door. 'I'm sure Severus can catch up when he- '

With a dramatic irony that only Snape could achieve, the floor flew open with a sharp crash against the wall and her old potions master sauntered in. With him came a flood of bad memories; Snape telling her that everyone with a normal hair colour was dismissed, during the phase of her childhood where she found her morphing difficult to control; Snape sneering down at her first year efforts at basic potion-making; Snape ignoring Sue Maine's constant attempts to trip her over...

Tonks shivered as he brought cold air into the room with him, his robes billowing around his leg. With no recognition for anyone in the entire room, he took his seat at the coldest end of the table, removing several rolls of parchment from the inside of his robes and spreading them out on the table.

'The situation over the past month has remained steady,' he announced, his voice spreading through the room like oil. 'The Dark Lord continues to try and regain old recruits, as well as beginning the hunt for new ones...'

'And what are you doing about it?' Sirius asked loudly, setting his firewhisky bottle down on the table heavily. Snape gave him a stare that could burn through lead. 'I mean, you flounce in here like you're doing such a service by giving all these little updates into things we can't do anything about. Everyone else is contributing. What are _you_ _doing_?'

'Sirius...' Remus cautioned quietly.

'And you, Black?' Snape replied, with his perfectly composed sneer. 'What's your contribution? As far as I can see, it is merely sitting in this house. Face it, Black; you are the _House Elf_ of this organisation.'

Sirius rose alarmingly quickly, reaching for his wand. Remus stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, forcefully dragging him back down to his seat and taking the whisky from in front of him, placing it out of reach.

Snape gave a greasy smirk and continued with his report. Tonks couldn't will her attention to listen to his monotonous voice any longer; she was growing increasingly tired. She watched in fascination as Remus turned away from Snape to stare, once again, into the fireplace. Something in his furrowed brow told her that he was still listening intently. She heard the voices of other members inputting generously and let the sound wash over her.

Tonks allowed her eyelids to droop as she watched the fire flickering restlessly. Snape's dulcet tones only served to send her deeper into her own mind.

Someone coughed loudly and she was broken out of her stupor, only to realise that all eyes were on her. Worse still, they all looked extremely expectant. She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

'By all means Nymphadora, communicate telepathically, you can't imagine how it thrills us,' Snape offered dryly, fitting the parchments back into his robes.

Sirius snarled, looking remarkably like the criminal he was thought to be. She realised that she must have been asked to begin her report.

'We visited the Death Eater in question,' Remus began for her, his eyes roving across the faces around the table. 'I used legilimency and was able to determine that he was truthful in his claims that refusing to rejoin the Death Eaters.'

'Then why haven't they killed him?' Molly asked with wide eyes, ringing her apron in her hands.

'That remains in question, Molly,' Remus replied kindly. 'It may be that they need him for something.'

A worried shiver seemed to pass through the entire congregation like a wave. Tonks pulled her robes tighter around her and wished for a hole to open in the floor so that she could sink gratefully into it. There was something wrong with her today; nothing seemed to be going smoothly; everything seemed to be having extremely embarrassing consequences.

'Maybe they're hoping that he'll change his mind as Voldemort regains power?' Tonks suggested, wanting to release some of the nervous energy that had nestled inside her.

'It's a possibility,' Remus agreed, his eyes soft. 'Nymphadora, you've displayed a great deal of initiative today. You're becoming a truly valuable member of the Order.'

Tonks gaped at him in sheer astonishment. His eyes showed a sparkle of amusement, deep in the depths of blue. She suspected this praise was partly for Snape's benefit.

'How touching,' Snape remarked dryly, his lip curling nastily. 'It would seem that you have a fan, Nymphadora. A werewolf praising a shape-shifter. It would seem that the freaks of society have to stick together.'

By the time Remus had, again, calmed Sirius down and Snape had swept out through the door, the room buzzed with nervous energy. All eyes seemed to be on Sirius and Remus, with the exception of Molly, who had resumed cooking, and Mundungus Fletcher, who was passed out drunk in the corner of the room. A woman whose name Tonks had forgotten was poking him gently, a worried expression on her face. As people began to file out of the room, leaving only a handful of members, Tonks began to relax. Next time, she resolved, she would put forward more information herself, instead of leaving it all to Remus.

'Molly, let me help you with that,' Remus offered kindly, taking a place next to her at the stove. He rolled the sleeves of his shabby robes up to his elbows and set to work.

He cooked with an ease that could have only come from years of experience. Tonks was a terrible cook. She watched as he moved around the kitchen, stirring saucepans with upmost grace and –

A loud snort of amusement broke her concentration. Sirius was leaning across the table, a grin plastered across his face. His black hair tipped across his face as he asked in a low voice; 'enjoying the view?'

'Don't be a prat, Sirius,' she warned dangerously. 'I'm an Auror.'

'And a very pretty little one you are too,' he winked, touching the tip of her nose. She made a face at him.

'So,' Sirius began, suddenly looking very serious indeed. 'He told you then?'

Tonks knew, of course, that Sirius was referring to the werewolf issue. 'Someone told me for him, actually. But he explained afterwards,' she replied in hushed tones. 'I honestly had no idea.'

'Mm, it's not something that he announces on the wireless every morning,' Sirius nodded. Tonks punched him playfully in the shoulder. He pulled a wounded expression before rearranging his features, once again, into sincerity. 'Seriously though, I wouldn't bring it up again, unless he does first. I know he was reluctant for you to find out. I think he liked the idea of having someone who _didn't_ know. So it might be best for you to act exactly like you _don't_ know.'

'But he needs to know that it doesn't bother me,' she insisted.

Sirius looked at her in blatant amusement. 'Well, as you might have already guessed, Remus isn't the kind to sit around crying into his tea, shovelling ice cream into his mouth and talking about his feelings. If you want to have a therapy session with him, good luck to you.'

Tonks scowled at him as he chuckled in obvious amusement. Dinner arrived shortly after, warm and welcome after a hard day. She ate enthusiastically, practically shouting praise at Molly, who waved off the onslaught with a kindly smile. Remus ate quietly, barely saying a word. She thought she saw his eyes occasionally flicker to her, but could have been imagining things.

When she had finished dessert, a quick glance at the clock told her that she had to get home. She said hasty goodbyes and thanked Molly for dinner. A quick scan of the room revealed that Remus was nowhere in sight. A sinking feeling began in the pit of her stomach. She pushed it away impatiently and left, saying a few more goodbyes as she went.

She stepped out of the front door into the pleasant summer air, which was growing cooler with the sinking sun. 'Nymphadora,' he heard a hoarse voice just beside her and jumped.

She sighed, her smile tentative and unsure, 'Remus,' she said with relief.

'I just came out for some air,' he explained with a small smile. 'Are you leaving?'

'Yeah, off to fight dark forces in the form of the large pile of laundry that's threatening to eat my entire flat alive,' she joked. He chuckled genuinely; it seemed like a rare sound to her and it send bolts of fire into her stomach.

Oh, this was not good.

'Well, do be careful with that,' he replied gently. 'Goodnight, Nymphadora.'

'Tonks,' she corrected firmly. 'Goodnight, Remus.'

It was now or never, she decided. 'Remus,' she began. Everything was a tidal wave from there; 'I just want you to know that it doesn't bother me. Obviously I don't expect you to talk about something you don't want to, but I'm not going to pretend that it doesn't exist. It does, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest. In the same way it doesn't bother you that I can change my face. It's just something that makes you who you are, and I'd still love to work with you in the Order. I have fun with you, Remus.'

She didn't stop to look at his expression. She did, however, give his rough, warm hand a quick squeeze before dashing down the stone steps and disapparating. From the quick glance at him as she turned on the spot, she saw that his expression held a great deal of confusion, and that he was looking in mild suprise at the hand she had just let go of.

To be continued...

* * *

**I understand that it's a pretty slow start but I really want to capture some depth in this story and show Tonks' deveopment as an Order member. **

**Please review if you enjoyed!**


	2. Ode to a Doxy

**Many thanks to the reviewers from the first chapter! This chapter focuses on the section of the Order of the Pheonix book where Harry is liberated from the Dursleys.**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

Chapter Two: Ode to a Doxy

'I honestly can't remember, Tonks!' Remus exclaimed once again, with an exasperated sigh.

'Of course you can, Remus! I told you mine – it's only fair!' Tonks argued back.

They were sat on the rough concrete ground, which was uncomfortably warm in the mid-summer air. It was early evening. Their backs were pressed against an unwelcoming brick wall. Tonks shifted slightly with a huffing sigh, trying to regain feeling in her bottom. She was pressed a little too closely to Remus, the invisibility cloak thrown over them both as they watched from afar as Harry Potter lay, once again, on the wilting flowerbed outside his family's house.

'Come on,' she encouraged again, nudging him gently in the ribs. He frowned down at her, wriggling uncomfortably against the wall. 'It's a simple question, Remus; who was your first kiss?'

Remus remained silent, pursing his lips slightly. Tonks sighed, sensing that he wasn't going to give in and tell her. She folded her arms over her chest and drew her knees up. The heat was almost too much to bear after the two hours that they had been sitting in it, despite the cool cloth of the invisibility cloak. Remus' eyes were intently fixed on Harry, who was laying spread eagle, looking like he would rather be anywhere else, completely unaware of their presence.

'Do you think he's going to move today?' she asked quietly, sighing once again. Remus didn't respond. Tonks nudged his shoulder gently with hers. He brushed her off, equally as gently.

'I'm worried about him,' Remus admitted finally, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, 'I have doubts as to whether sending him back here was the right thing to do. These muggles...they really aren't good people for Harry to be around.'

'Dumbledore seems to think it's for the best,' Tonks reasoned, 'And besides, it won't be for much longer, surely? School starts soon.'

'I'm hoping that he will be able to stay out of trouble until then,' Remus nodded slowly, his eyes darting to hers, and then back to Harry.

Tonks smiled in amusement. 'Stop worrying, Remus, your hair will start falling out,' she joked.

He gave her a small smile and was silent again.

If she was truthful, Tonks had spent the past few hours trying to control the back flips her stomach had been performing at the feel of his warm shoulder pressing into hers. Especially considering the fact that, due to the intense heat, they had both decided to don muggle clothing in favour of overbearing robes. It also didn't help that her white vest top left her entire arm bare along where it touched his thin white shirt, the sleeves of which had been rolled up to his elbows, revealing his lean forearms. She could feel the warmth of his arm through the thin white shirt, and it was extremely distracting. Especially considering she was supposed to be on 'Potter-Watch'.

'I'll bet you ten galleons that he gets up and goes to the park again,' she muttered, straining her neck to see if he had moved in the slightest. 'How about it, Remus?'

He smiled in amusement. 'I'm afraid I don't have ten galleons to risk,' he admitted.

'Five galleons, then!' she bargained, holding her hand out for him to shake.

A muscle near the dimple in his cheek twitched, but he shook her hand in agreement of their deal nonetheless, suppressing an easy smile.

'I wonder if I'll ever get to meet him properly...' Tonks pondered thoughtfully. 'Still, I wouldn't know what to say I suppose. Probably make an idiot of myself. I mean..._Harry Potter_. What do you say to someone who's had his life?'

'He's seen too much for his years,' Remus agreed quietly with a sigh.

'Poor kid,' she said, nodding.

'You'd be surprised at how normal he is,' Remus offered. 'Most children his age would have dealt with the circumstances extremely badly. When I taught him he wasn't any different from any of the other pupils. A little more... vocal in his beliefs, perhaps, but nothing out of the ordinary.'

A smile spread across Tonks' face. 'I bet you were a good teacher, _Professor_ Lupin,' she teased, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth.

The smile he shot her crinkled the laughter lines around his sparkling eyes, widening her own smile. 'That's sweet of you, Nymphadora, but since I am no longer Professor Lupin, I would have to make the assumption that it wasn't my wisest career move.'

'Nonsense, Remus! I bet you gave out detentions with style and charisma that no other teachers could even dream of achieving!' His eyebrows raised in amusement, deep chuckles moving through her body, sending tingles down her arm.

'Well personally, I think that Professor McGonagall gave me a run for my money,' he winked playfully.

'Hmm, if my memory serves correctly, she always _did_ have a certain flare to her detention-giving,' Tonks agreed.

'I would know; I was on the receiving end of her detentions more times than I could count,' Remus chuckled.

Tonks gaped in astonishment; 'Remus Lupin in detention? Surely not, I would have had you down as teacher's pet.'

He raised an eyebrow slyly, nudging her back, gently, with his shoulder. 'I can assure you that that was _not_ the case, Nymphadora.'

'Hmm, Remus the Detention Bandit,' she said thoughtfully. 'Suddenly it's all making sense.'

He pursed his lips again, a gently disapproving expression settled peacefully on his face. She became suddenly hyper-aware of the physical closeness which they were sharing; his face was mere inches away from hers, magnifying the rough details of his face. Tonks allowed her eyes to wander over the silver shadow of stubble that covered his hollow cheeks, the angle of his straight nose and the deep shadows beneath his eyes. His light blue eyes, despite carrying haunted shimmers within, gave his face a shining, kindly light about it.

Quite abruptly, he pulled away from her gaze, looking back and Harry with a serious expression.

'We should head back to the Order,' Remus suggested finally, 'Mundungus will need the cloak for his shift.'

He stood, urging her to follow. Tonks' back protested feverishly as the blood rushed back into her lower body. She winced at the feeling and helped him arrange the cloak around them so that they would remain undetected by Harry. She maintained a very small, respectable gap between their bodies, not sure how Remus would respond if she crushed herself against him.

Turning on the spot together, with Remus' hand in the crook of her bare elbow, they disapparated.

* * *

Once they were back at Headquarters and had handed the cloak to Mundungus Fletcher, they were quickly ushered upstairs by Sirius. He announced that there was an infestation of Doxies in the library that was too out of control for him to handle on his own. With a grin, he handed them each a can of Doxycide.

Tonks sighed and thought longingly of the dinner that she could smell cooking downstairs, but followed them into the dusty room nonetheless, which was lined in heavy, ancient looking books. She suspected that Sirius hadn't touched this room since he had returned.

'First prize for whoever gets the most,' Sirius winked.

Tonks rolled her eyes at her cousin and glanced at Remus, who was calmly rolling his sleeves higher up his arms and shaking his can of spray in preparation. Suddenly inspired with a sense of competitiveness, Tonks readied herself, positioning herself close to the heavy velvet drapes which blocked the afternoon sun from the room entirely.

'What's first prize?' Tonks asked with a smirk.

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment then seemed to decide. 'For a gruelling task like this? I think that calls for a night of dinner and dancing with yours truly,' he decided with a wide smile, combing a hand through his hair with a small flick.

'I'll pass,' Tonks muttered, turning back towards the curtains.

'Oh alright, a night of dinner and dancing with my good friend Moony, here,' he reasoned loudly.

Before she had the chance to whip her head around and threaten to fill his face with Doxycide, Sirius began squirting the spray liberally into the thick expanse of fabric before them. She saw, in the moment of her glimpse around at them both, Sirius smirking as he focused on his task and the horrified face of Remus as he stared at something behind her.

Before she could even blink, she discovered what Remus had been staring at; what felt like a dozen Doxies had tangled themselves in her robes and hair. She fumbled with her can, spraying it frantically in the air around her, trying to rid herself of the tiny pixies that were clawing and biting at her skin with increasing determination to hurt her. She gasped and saw through the swarm of tiny bodies floating around her head, Sirius and Remus trying to pull them off her and spray them. She shook her head vigorously, panic and embarrassment rising inside her like flames.

She stumbled backwards in blindness as tiny fingers hooked themselves into her eyelid. She tried to pull it off but found that only made the situation more painful. She couldn't even reach her wand through the swarm.

She felt her stomach swoop and that oh-so familiar crash as her foot caught on something, sending her flying backwards into something extremely hard. She realised, as her head connected with the razor sharp corner of wood, that it had been the bookshelf. Worse still, she could feel the shelf wobbling under the weight and suddenness of her impact and, just to put the icing on the cake, heavy books filled with dust rained down on her where she lay on the floor.

The proceeding event blurred together. She could vaguely hear panicked male voices and could feel the weight of the books being lifted off her. The scratching and biting stopped shortly after. She could feel herself being flipped over onto her back and the soft pressure of a hand against her forehead. Her temple felt warm and sticky, a sharp pain nestled inside. She tried to speak, but found that all that would come out was a low groan. Fantastic; she couldn't speak. If Sirius or Remus called anyone else and they ended up seeing her in this state, she vowed mentally to kill them and...

'Molly!' she heard Sirius' relieved voice and groaned internally. Molly and her family, accompanied by Hermione Granger, had recently taken up a permanent residence in the house.

Her vision was blurred, but she could make out the outline of two figures crouching down by her and another one approaching. She felt able to move her arms again and felt a sharp pain along her shoulder as she reached up to touch her head. She felt immediately the hot flow of blood that was pouring from the side of her head, stinging when she touched it. She winced heavily and squinted against the light that was suddenly flooding the room.

She felt softer, smaller fingers handling her and recognised Molly's voice telling her confusing things in a motherly voice. Some Auror, she thought; defeated by Doxies.

'Nymphadora.' She heard Remus' voice, close to her ear, and felt his warmth breath spread out across the side of her face. That was extremely nice. She sighed and reached out to the sound, allowing it to tug her out of her fuzzy prison. 'Stay with us,' he pleaded, 'and I promise I'll answer your question.'

She heard another gurgling moan and grimaced at herself. This really was an embarrassing display, even for her. She wanted, more than anything, to be able to see clearly and communicate that she was fine.

She felt something cool and smooth being pressed against her dry lips, and suddenly her mouth was filled with a strong potion that slipped down her throat and made her choke. She felt it pool warmly in her stomach and soon after, felt herself slip out of haziness and back into the room.

Molly's worried face swam before her, clear for the first time. The side of her face felt sticky and crusty, and her eyes felt sore. To the side of her, looking equally as worried, Remus knelt on the wooden floor. She looked past him and saw, slightly blurry, Sirius scooping limp Doxies into a large bag.

'Tonks, dear?' Molly asked frantically, brushing her hair back from her face.

'M'fine, Molly,' Tonks felt herself slur, 'don't worry 'bout me...'

'Molly!' she heard another female voice call, unfamiliar and frantic. 'Molly, Mundungus has just sent us a message saying that Harry Potter is raving about being attacked by Dementors! He says he wasn't there at the time, but the boy was quite adamant...'

'Good lord!' Molly exclaimed, a hand pressed over her heart. Tonks saw her stand up, towering over her where she lay on the hard floor. 'Remus, can you take care of Tonks' head? I really must go and find out...'

Tonks fought off the drowsiness that was threatening to consume her, blinking against the light that assaulted her eyes. She saw Molly sweep from the room, followed by a frantic looking Sirius, who threw an apologetic look at her before exiting. She smiled in understanding and squeezed her eyes shut again.

A warm hand slipped under her back and gently lifted her into a sitting position. The goblet of potion that she had been given earlier was thrust into her hands by Remus. She looked at his face, which was grim and serious, his eyes looking extremely tired. The late-afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over his face.

He drew out his wand and threw her an apologetic glance. 'This may sting a little,' he told her, smiling tightly. She nodded, familiar with the feeling of a wound being repaired.

'Go on then,' she smiled through her nausea as he drew the tip of his wand over the gash above her temple. The biting pain worsened and she winced, glad of his face to focus on. 'You promised to answer my question if I came to,' she reminded him, 'fair's fair.'

'Hmm, so it would appear,' he considered, glancing briefly into her gaze with a genuine smirk. 'My first kiss was with a girl called Tilly Rosen. It was in second year. She trapped me in a broomstick cupboard and produced some mistletoe.'

Tonks smiled widely, trying to imagine Remus as a child, without his cloak of maturity and wisdom.

'All finished,' he said gently, conjuring a warm, damp cloth.

He carefully removed the drying blood from the side of her face, his eyes intent and his brow furrowed. It suddenly struck her how good he seemed to be at mending wounds. She then realised, with a pang, that he must have had a lot of practice on himself. He gently teased the matted sections of her hair away, careful not to tug her at her scalp. Once he seemed to be finished, she morphed away the scar and the bruise that she could feel, leaving herself looking, she hoped, as good as new. He smiled at her abilities and put his wand away.

'Some Auror, right?' she commented wryly, her face colouring. 'I can't even handle a few Doxies, apparently.'

'Nonsense, Tonks. There was more than just a few, and they were livid. You were caught off guard. I am certain that had you been prepared, you would have outshone both me and Sirius at the task,' he assured her, his eyes true and sparkling once again.

'And I would have won Sirius' competition,' she suggested with a wide smile.

'Indeed you would have, and a night of dinner and dancing with Sirius would have been on the cards,' he nodded.

'Darn it!' she exclaimed, giggling. 'Still, he won a romantic night in with himself; what more could he ask for?'

'I'm sure he will have a fantastic time,' Remus agreed. 'Come on; let's get you off the floor.'

She allowed him to take her arms and pull her up carefully, helping her perch in a plush velvet chair. She thanked him and tried to calm the room down as swam woozily before her. Her head felt like it was trying to split itself in two. Remus gestured to the goblet he had given her.

'It will help the pain,' he explained.

She took a small sip of the burning liquid and made a face as it went down her dry throat. 'So...' she started, trying to keep the smirk off her face, 'Tilly Rosen, eh? Pretty?'

Laughter puffed from his lips and he looked at the floor. He said nothing but smiled that smile at her. It was full of amusement and admiration, with just a touch of incredulity.

Suddenly, the door flew open and Sirius entered, looking extremely frantic. 'Harry's in trouble. He used a patronus to fight off the Dementors that attacked him; they've expelled him for misuse. Arthur's trying to sort something out with the Ministry. Kingsley's looking into it, too.'

'_Dementors_?' Tonks asked incredulously, 'Around there? Seems a bit unlikely...'

'Why else would Harry use a patronus?' Remus reasoned quietly, his forehead furrowed in worry.

'Exactly,' Sirius agreed, 'he shouldn't be kept there any longer. It's not safe. We should go and get him, right now, and bring him here.'

'Sirius,' Remus warned gently, 'we should do what Dumbledore thinks best. He knows a great deal more about the security around Harry than we do. If he sees fit, we will bring him here, but until then, I suggest we wait for instructions...'

'Waiting? Where's waiting ever got us, Remus? He needs to be around us; we have to know that he's safe.'

'We _do_ know that he's safe, Sirius. As long as Dumbledore is concerned with Harry's safety, he will _always_ be safe, and you know it,' Remus told him, his voice rising slightly and echoing around the room

Before they could descend into an argument, Tonks decided to break the tension.

'I'm going into the office tomorrow. I'll check around and see what people know,' she suggested, her head swivelling between them both.

Sirius fixed her with a heated look, a touch of panic and desperation in his eyes. She felt for him; Harry was like a son to him. He had been denied contact with him all summer and now, and even now, after he had been put in danger, he was being denied his rights to see him. Sirius nodded, looking grateful of her offer.

They headed downstairs to dinner, wanting to hear what the rest of the order had to say about the whole event. Molly fussed as she arrived, but Tonks maintained that she was perfectly fine and thanked her for her help. Remus, she noticed, stayed close to her, a slightly worried expression on his face, as though he expected her to collapse on the spot. Dumbledore arrived shortly after, looking extremely serene, and was bombarded with a tirade of endless questions from Sirius.

She sat down and searched for Remus in the small room. He had gotten away from her; seemingly intercepted by Hestia Jones. She was speaking quietly to him, her face alarmed. His head was tilted towards her slightly, a frown on his face. Every now and then, he nodded in agreement and said something in response. Tonks couldn't hear what they were talking about over the clatter of conversation in the room, but could tell that based on his tense body language, he was eager to leave the conversation. Hestia's black hair was loose across her smooth face, her eyes bright. Tonks scowled in her direction and turned away, trying to suppress the childish jealousy that she hadn't felt since school.

Sirius had evidently given up on trying to grill Dumbledore for information, and had moved onto berating Dung in an extremely loud voice, shouting about irresponsibility and stupidity and how he left Harry to fend for himself.

Once everyone had quietened down, Dumbledore had announced in a calming voice, which washed over them all like syrup, that a decision had been made to remove Harry from his family home and bring him here for the duration of the summer. Tonks could practically see Sirius levitating from his seat in anxiety and impatience. Dumbledore listed off the names of the members which he would like to go ahead and collect Harry in a few days time. Hers was included, along with Remus, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Hestia and a few others she didn't quite catch.

Her eyes sought out Remus', who immediately responded with a gentle smile and a quick wink.

* * *

'_Harry Potter_, Remus!' she hissed as they landed down on the wilting grass, the night air thick and clammy around them. 'I'm actually going to get to meet him! The boy who lived...'

'I'm afraid you're building your expectations up too much, Nymphadora,' Remus chuckled in response. Mad-Eye grunted and gave her a sharp hand on her shoulder, indicating for her, she assumed, to shut up.

They were in front of the neat, suburban house in which Harry Potter was currently imprisoned. They placed their broomsticks on the lawn as they gathered around. Hestia and Kingsley were conversing in low voices, peering at the window before them.

'Now, remember,' Moody warned in a low, gravelly voice. 'There could be a great deal of dark magic contained within this house. There's a chance that Potter himself could have been ambushed and replaced with a spy. Tread lightly, people; this could be a fatal trap.'

Tonks gaped at Mad-Eyes, who was drawing out his wand and tracing lines across a small window, a look of deep concentration on his face. 'Don't be daft, Mad-Eye,' she joked, 'You think Voldemort's going to be squatting in there wearing a Harry Potter wig? Highly unlikely, don't you think?'

'Better safe than sorry, girl!' he shot back, 'Constant vigilance!'

With a flick of his wand, he carefully opened the window. 'One at a time,' he grunted. 'Tonks, you first. And do try to keep quiet, wont you?'

'Piece of cake, Mad-Eye. Are you sure _you _can manage climbing through at your age? You know I hear that putting your back out is really very painful and-'

He cut her off with an angry grunt and urged her to get on with it. She sighed, suddenly unsure of herself, and heaved herself up, her foot unsteady and slipping on the window frame.

'Careful,' she heard Remus' voice behind her, followed by his warm, large hands splaying supportively across her back. She sighed and, with his help, climbed through the gap in the window-frame. He feet connected with what she assumed must be the kitchen-counter. Relieved, she heaved the rest of herself in and ducked her head under.

Unfortunately, as she was hopping down off the counter, the others filing in after her, her foot connected with a dish on the counter. It toppled unsteadily from its home and landed with an almighty smash on the polished kitchen floor. The fragments of china spread out, flying in all directions. She heard Moody's low hiss and ducked her head in embarrassment, throwing out hushed apologies and casting a clumsy _reparo _charm.

'Sorry,' she repeated quietly as they last of the Guard climbed in through the window. Once they were all inside, Moody closed the window, throwing her another glance that could scare a Death Eater into submission.

'I'm sure that Harry won't berate you for breaking his aunt's plate,' Remus joked quietly in her ear, urging her into the dark hallway with a hand in the small of her back. 'Voldemort in a wig, on the other hand...'

Her laughter, ringing through the quiet house, resulted in Mad-Eye growling out a noise that bore remarkable resemblance to someone having a heart-attack.

* * *

Later, when Harry had been safely removed from the suburban house and transported to Grimmauld Place, Tonks sat, alone on the steps of the back-yard. She enjoyed the pleasant night-air, clutching a refreshing bottle of butterbeer between her palms. The air was clear save for a few strands of candy-floss clouds, scattered haphazardly across the dark sky. The fire inside the kitchen was too stifling at this time of year, as was the stove. She had felt the need to break free of the room and have some quiet time with the night.

She took a long, cool sip of butterbeer and looked up as she heard the door open. Molly bustled out, wiping her hands on her apron and settling her plump bottom next to Tonks on the small steps.

'Wotcher, Molly,' she greeted, shuffling across the stone to give her some room. 'Everything alright?'

'Fine, dear, thank you,' Molly assured her. She looked a little less drawn now Harry was here, and Tonks knew that concern for his safety had been worrying her for a while now. If fact, everyone seemed a little less tense, especially Sirius, who had been practically bounding with excitement all night. Remus seemed a little more relaxed too, his worry for Harry's wellbeing also put to rest a little. It was amazing how much tension the absence of one boy had caused.

'Harry seems great,' Tonks offered, searching for conversation with the fellow witch.

'Oh, he is,' Molly agreed with a fond look in her eye. 'Ron and Hermione are so glad to have him back with them. We all are.'

Tonks nodded in agreement, before playfully adding, 'I got the impression that Ron and Hermione were doing just fine on their own together, actually...' She chuckled, giving Molly a knowing wink.

Molly laughed in return, shaking her head in admonishment. 'It's a known fact that times like these bring people together. They rush into things and throw their hearts into things too willingly because deep down they think that they might not have much time left.'

'It's an instinct I suppose,' Tonks agreed, her mood extremely pensive.

'These things happen so quickly, we almost can't keep up with them,' Molly continued. 'It happened to me last time; Arthur and I rushed into marriage because love is the only thing left that can brighten up the world when darkness threatens to take over it.'

Tonks felt her eyes well slightly and couldn't account for it. Suddenly the enormity of what was coming had struck her, and she had realised that she had barely anything to brighten her life through the darkness. Something bad was approaching, and she felt entirely unprepared.

Molly continued, 'I've noticed a change in you, Tonks, dear. You've had a look about you the past few weeks. Things like this spring themselves on us without warning or reason. It's your responsibility to look after your own heart. Don't throw yourself down paths that you can't walk down, dear, but equally don't let your heart go without.'

Tonks knew there was no point trying to deny it, 'It's not really anything, Molly. Honestly, it's just a small thing, nothing that would cause any damage. And besides, he doesn't see me that way.'

Molly was quiet, thoughtful, her eyes careful as they studied Tonks. She had morphed her hair red and long this evening, and it suddenly struck her that her current resemblances to the Weasley family made this entire situation seem like a bizarre mother-daughter heart to heart.

'Remus is a proud man,' Molly stated knowingly. Tonks felt the heat rush to her face at the sound of his name. 'A good, decent man, through and through. He's been through a lot in his life, and seen too much bad in the world.'

'Yes, he has,' Tonks agreed quietly, her voice unsteady.

'But he sees more good than other people too,' Molly continued. 'He doesn't see the bad in people, he looks for the _good_. He has a way of focusing on the beautiful things in a world filled with evil.'

She looked up at Molly, her eyes shining in the cool night. Molly smiled, her eyes looking slightly watery and said lovingly; 'I think he sees _you_, Tonks, dear.'

Tonks breath came in shallow little puffs and she nodded in thanks at Molly. Molly gave her one last motherly smile and rose stiffly from her sitting position, rearranging her apron around her waist before slipping back into the house.

Tonks drew her knees closer to herself and tried to control the somersaults that her stomach was eagerly performing. She would never have expected to have a conversation like that with Molly, who had always seemed so short with her. She could feel herself warming to the plump woman even more as she pondered over what she had just said.

The air was so pleasantly cool that Tonks sat out in it for as long as possible, mulling the thoughts over in her head. She had obviously developed something of a crush on Remus during their time together the past few weeks, but had barely even considered the possibility that it was reciprocated. It seemed like an unlikely scenario; she was young and clumsy and inexperienced. He always seemed so in control of his emotions. She had rarely heard him so much as raise his voice.

She frowned at the night sky and pondered Remus Lupin, the half-shadowed moon staring back at her.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! **

**Reviews are recieved with love ;)**


	3. An Impending Autumn

**I hope that you enjoy this new chapter! I have a lot on with college at the moment but I've been devoting my free time to continue with this story so I hope that it is liked and recieved well. I did several drafts of this and none of them felt right until I wrote this one. Have fun!**

* * *

Chapter Two: An Impending Autumn

It was the eve of Harry's return to Hogwarts. The mild evening was threatened by heavy, grey cloud which came rolling in with the promise of rain. She had attended the celebration for Ron and Hermione, which had been a lovely evening. She had been glad to spend one last night with the kids that she had become so fond of over the past month. That had been, of course, until the Boggart.

Tonks had heard of the horror which Molly had faced upstairs and it had shook her to her core. She was involved in a job which risked so much, she realised, and she faced losing not only her own life, but those of her friends. A shudder ran through her and she pulled her robes tighter around herself as the first fine drops of rain began to land on her face. She morphed her long red hair back into her favourite pink coif and shifted from foot to foot as she lingered outside Number 12, breathing the fresh air in desperately.

The thought of her empty, unwelcoming flat made her heart sink slightly.

The rain began to throw itself down with increased enthusiasm, and she relished the drops that were settling on her face. The coolness of the water on her skin was surprisingly pleasant after such a hot summer. She felt her hair begin to plaster itself onto her head and resolved to head home, not sure that she could face Molly and the knowledge of what the plump witch feared most. It seemed like an intrusion to know such things.

She began to walk, needing the rhythmic movement of her own legs to calm the waves on unease that were rushing through her. Her need for a conversation with Remus grew stronger and she pushed it aside, feeling silly and childish.

She had realised over the past days that her crush on Remus was fast becoming a hindrance to her work. She couldn't afford to get so attached to someone when there was so much to lose. She didn't want to chase him away with overbearing affection; he would likely think of it as a mere schoolgirl crush.

She swallowed the silly tears that rose as she walked and was hit by sudden inspiration. She turned on her heal and willed herself into apparition, the tight squeeze of travel taking her breath away slightly.

The Leaky Cauldron pub had never looked better and Tonks let a warm smile break free as she opened the stiff door and entered.

Warm air assaulted her chilled face and she sighed gratefully. The pub was bustling with customers; she assumed it was a result of the impending returns to Hogwarts. She found and barstool and ordered a hot chocolate from Tom the Barman.

He frowned in confusion and seemed to be straining to hear over the noisy room. 'What was that m'dear?!' he asked loudly, attempting to move his ear as close to her as possible. She sighed and sat damply on her barstool, willing herself to dry quicker.

It took a while to communicate her order to Tom but he got it in the end. She thanked him as he placed the hot beverage in front of her, breathing in the rich fumes that were swirling warmly into the air before her.

'Nymphadora Tonks?' a female voice drifted over to her and she closed her eyes in defeat. She had wanted to be alone.

Emmeline Vance settled herself in the empty barstool next to Tonks, clutching a glass of deep blue liquid. She looked at Tonks through shining, dark eyes, her blonde hair framing her structured face as she smiled lightly.

He face dropped as she took in Tonks posture and expression. 'Everything alright?' Emmeline asked briskly.

'Fine, fine, thanks,' Tonks replied quickly, taking a deep sip of her warm hot chocolate

'Feeling the stress of the Order a little?' she asked knowingly, her face kind and understanding.

'Yeah,' Tonks sighed. 'I suppose I am.'

'Happens to the best of us,' Emmeline laughed, settling her drink on the table.

Tonks smiled genuinely. She had never spoken to Hestia much, despite being grouped with her for several tasks in the Order. She had always seemed extremely brisk and mildly intimidating.

'I don't blame you for wanting a break. Great minds think alike, I suppose,' she nodded towards her glass. 'Tonight was really quite unsettling.'

Tonks nodded in agreement, staring at the creamy foam that was settled on top of her drink. 'Poor Molly; she's got so much at risk. Her entire family. We can't even begin to imagine.'

'Thank goodness Remus was there,' Emmeline nodded.

Tonks' heart skipped a beat, her hand slipping on the handle of her drink. The heavy mug crashed into the saucer beneath it, sending a few heavy waves of chocolate liquid surging over the sides and onto the table. Tonks cursed and cleaned it up with a flick of her wand. She kept her eyes on the table, not wanting to see the look on Emmeline's face.

'He...' Emmeline began uncertainly, 'he was great with Molly. He really calmed her down, don't you think?'

Tonks cleared her throat, cursing herself for being so obvious and clumsy. Emmeline wasn't stupid; she would have noticed Tonks' blatant reaction to Remus' name.

'Yeah,' Tonks agreed hoarsely, taking another sip of her drink, willing her hands to keep still. 'Remus is great with people. They loved him at Hogwarts from what I heard from the kids. It's a shame he was forced out. This thing about Umbridge is just ridiculous, isn't it?'

She was trying to subtly direct the conversation away from Remus, eager to lose the hot blush that seemed to have taken residence upon her face.

'Absolutely,' Emmeline smiled lightly. The almost knowing look in her eye unnerved Tonks and she had to look away again. 'I'd guess that he was subject to a fair few schoolgirl crushes in the time that he was there. Must have distracted the poor things.'

Tonks laughed unsteadily, hiding her face once again in the safety of her mug. She had buried her face so deeply that she felt the tip of her nose dip in the thick foam. She brushed it away impatiently and looked up at Emmeline, arranging her face into something that she hoped looked vaguely normal.

'I seem to remember that it wasn't difficult to get distracted from work in the first place; a passing fly used to be enough reason for me to sit through my entire History of Magic lessons staring out of the window, ' Tonks agreed.

She had hoped that the conversation would die down, and that Emmeline would leave her to her own company, but the witch merely settled more firmly in her seat and sighed contently.

'Well, I'm sure that there was _no_ lack of attention in Defence against the Dark Arts,' Emmeline winked, giggling slightly. Tonks gave her a small smile and sighed, resigning herself to the fact that a conversation about Remus was what Emmeline seemed to be determined to get. She began to wonder exactly _what_ was contained within the blue liquid that Emmeline was drinking down eagerly, because her words were beginning to slur together slightly, her eyes dilating.

She was suddenly struck by a possible method of escape; 'Emmeline, it's been great to chat but I really need to dash to Diagon Alley before everything closes, you don't mind, do you?'

She wasn't prepared to sit with Emmeline and let the conversation descend into the inevitable drunken nightmare that Tonks could feel approaching like a storm.

Tonks hastily drained the last dregs of chocolate from her large mug and set it down. Emmeline frowned slightly. 'Not at all,' she said, setting her glass down, 'would you like some company?'

'No, no! I'll be fine, thanks,' Tonks reassured quickly, collecting her things and hopping down unsteadily from the barstool. 'See you soon, Emmeline.'

'Night, Tonks,' Emmeline replied, looking vaguely disappointed, gulping down another generous sip of her drink.

She gratefully rushed towards the entrance into Diagon Alley, weaving her way through the crowd that filled the warm pub, muttering apologies when she accidentally bumped a few customers in her haste.

She let the cool night air rush over her face as she took in the row of shops before her. The rain had died down, and the clouds were parting again, revealing the deep blue sky. Diagon Alley was blissfully empty, the last few stranglers rushing in and out of shops, dragging unwilling children in tow. The sun was setting as the evening drew to a close, and many shop doors were closed, the interiors in darkness as the establishment went to sleep for the night. Tonks sighed and began to make her way down the winding street, her hands deep in the pockets of her robes.

She milled aimless in Flourish and Blotts for a while, ignoring the bookseller's blatent hints that he needed to close until he got impatient and all but pushed her out of the door. She threw her best glare at him through the window of the door and continued down the street. Most shops had closed now, leaving the street with a deadened, sombre appearance.

The Apocathery still had its lights on, casting a warm glow out, and the bottles of glittering potions lining the walls looking incredibly inviting.

Tonks felt her heart splutter as she looked in through the grimy window and noticed a very familiar figure standing at the counter, his back to her, in deep conversation with the old man serving him. She followed the strong compulsion that shot through her and entered the shop, the door closing behind her with a gentle tinkle. Remus spoke in a low, hushed voice; '...please, this is absolutely vital, is it possible that I could make some kind of deal...'He trailed off as her foot slipped on the dusty, tiled floor and she steadied herself, the noise of her heavy boots clunking echoing around the tiny shop.

He slowly turned his head until he was looking directly at her, his face whiter than pale, shock and horror written on his face. Confusion and hurt washed through her as she noted his clenched fists and jaw, and the hostile expression etched onto his usually kind features. 'Tonks,' he said hoarsely.

'Remus...' she replied warily.

The old wizard behind the counter was routing around in a bottom cupboard, wheezing as dust attacked him. He suddenly straightened up and placed a heavy, brown glass bottle on the counter in front of him. Remus seemed to jump slightly at the sound as she tore his gaze away from Tonks to stare at the bottle in front of him.

'The price stays at fifteen galleons for a fresh brew, but I'll give you this one for five,' the old man grunted, brushing dust from the old bottle.

'That's unacceptable,' Remus shot back quietly, his hands splayed on the glass counter. He sucked in a deep, unsteady breath. 'Please, you know that the potion becomes dangerous when it's left bottled.'

'Considering the danger you put everyone in simply by existing,' the man growled angrily, his wrinkled face turning a deep puce colour as spittle sprayed from his straight mouth. 'The offer stays as it is. Take it or get out of my shop.'

Tonks was completely frozen to the spot, her mouth hanging open as the old man behind the counter displayed such malice towards Remus, whose shoulders seemed to be growing tenser by the second. She frowned as she looked at the bottle, her mind whirling around for logic. Her eyes focused on the hastily scribbled tag that had been tied loosely around the cork of the bottle.

_Wolfsbane._

Tonks gasped as the situation slotted into place. The anger came quickly after, bubbling up through her veins faster than she would have imagined. She moved closer to Remus' side. He ignored her and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply.

'I'll take the bottle, then,' Remus said finally, his voice cracking slightly.

Tonks couldn't stop herself. 'No!' she all but shouted, 'Remus, Wolfsbane turns stale, it could make you ill!'

'Nymphadora,' he pleaded quietly, still refusing to look at her, 'please.'

She refused to let this drop; the old man was out of order. 'How can you sell him this, you idiot?' she challenged, her chin jutting out in defiance. 'You should be ashamed. This could seriously damage his health.'

'It's none of my concern if a werewolf feels a bit queasy in the morning, little girl,' the old man sneered.

'You're a complete fool,' Tonks shot back, her eyes sharp as they dug into his. 'By refusing to sell him a proper brew for a decent price you're putting people in unnecessary danger.'

'It's an extremely complex and time-consuming potion to synthesize.' The old man's voice was rising now, his face dangerously blotched.

Tonks wasn't prepared to let him win; it wasn't an option. 'How much for a proper draft of the potion?' she challenged, hands on her hips.

'Fifteen galleons,' he growled in response, withered hands balling into tight fists.

She rummaged in her pocket, searching deep down for coins. Before she could find any, however, Remus' hand was around her wrist, pulling her hand away gently but firmly. She looked up into his face; his mouth was a set line, his eyes dark and tinged with the slightest hints of anger.

'_No_, Tonks,' he said once, firmly, his voice low.

Tonks' throat dried up and she swallowed, her eyes glued to his. She opened her mouth to argue but found herself suddenly short of words. He released her wrist and dug in his own pocket, drawing out a handful of coins. 'Five galleons for the bottle,' he said simply, placing the scattering of bronze and silver on the counter. He snatched the dusty bottle from in front of him and tucked it away into his robes.

Before she could protest, his hand was settled in the small of her back, and she was being led firmly out of the door. The cool air hit her face, which had flushed with anger and confusion. Once they were outside the shop, Remus turned her around to face him, his hands gently gripping her upper arms. 'What are you doing here, Nymphadora?'

'It's Tonks, Remus. And, shopping, actually,' she pulled herself free of his grip easily; he wasn't holding on tight. 'It's a regular pastime, maybe you've heard of it?'

A muscle in his cheek twitched. 'I'm sorry,' he said finally, his eyes closing wearily. His eyelashes held a golden glint against the darkness beneath his eyes. The last of the evening glow was fading away, casting long, faint shadows on the buildings as the sun lowered, sending everything into deep blue. 'That was a difficult situation to find myself in; do you understand that?'

She nodded, folding her arms over her chest as a cool breeze blew over them. 'Why did you let him sell you that?' she asked indignantly. 'You know that it'll make you ill, Remus!'

'If it helps me retain a single shred of my humanity, then it's worth it,' Remus replied calmly, his voice firm and decided. 'The full moon is in two days time, Nymphadora. I can't take any chances.'

'But still, the way he treated you was appalling.' She shuddered, her eyes searching his face.

He didn't seem at all concerned. 'He was a little biased, yes, but I can't say that I don't understand his reasoning,' he stated calmly. 'As I've said before, it's instinct to shy away from my infliction. I don't blame him in the slightest.'

Tonks tore her gaze from his and looked down at her boots and the cobbles beneath. 'I don't shy away from you,' she murmured, tightening her arm across her chest.

When she looked up, the gentle expression which she knew so well had returned. 'Then you, Nymphadora, are an extremely lovely exception.'

A bolt shot through her heart, and a smile crept onto her face, wide and genuine. He returned it, looking extremely weary and tired, seemingly satisfied that he had placated her. Tonks wasn't giving up that easily.

'You can't let people treat you like that, Remus,' she told him seriously, her eyes holding him with a strong grip.

His eyes hardened considerably, and he shoved his hands into the deep, empty pockets of his robes. A pang shot through her as she realised that she was perhaps pushing him too far, overstepping her boundaries and making him feel uncomfortable. As Molly had told her, Remus was a proud man.

She said nothing else, squeezing her lips together in an effort to stop the words spilling forth. He rubbed his palm over the hollow of his cheek and fixed her with a frown. 'It's not something that can be changed simply by confrontation, Tonks. Sometimes the answer is to simply let things be how they are.'

His thick greying fringe blew slightly in the breeze, dancing over his forehead. Tonks nodded and looked away, arranging her face so that he knew she did not approve of his conclusion. She saw his scruffy brown shoes walk into her vision as he moved a little closer. She looked up into his smiling eyes and reciprocated, with the moon looming in the sky behind him.

'You'll have to excuse me, Nymphadora, he told her, lines dancing around the corners of his mouth as he smirked. 'The impending moon makes me a little more...tense. I hope you don't think I'm being rude.'

Tonks stared. 'If this is you being rude, Remus, I'd love to see you in a good mood.'

His smile widened further and he nodded towards the winding street behind her. 'How about we stop off in the Leaky Cauldron before we leave? I, for one, could do with a drink.'

'I...' she started, not quite knowing how to respond, 'sure. Although, Emmeline might try and corner you. She was on the prowl when I was in there earlier.'

'Emmeline?' He raised an eyebrow as they began to take the short walk back to the pub. The streetlamps had come on, casting a pleasant glow over the charming street.

'You need to be careful with that one Remus, she's not quite as dignified as she'd like us to believe, it would seem. And remember; drunken words speak sober thoughts.' She winked, giggling slightly at Remus' confused expression.

'Drunk?' His eyebrows shot up. She grinned and refused to say any more.

Tonks let the smile slide from her face sighed into the night air. The summer had been long and hot; she couldn't remember the last time she had been too cold. Sadness had always been hand-in-hand with the onset of September for her. It was the end of the long days and the clammy nights, and the end of waking up to gloriously sunny mornings and the end of people sitting out in their gardens until late. And that summer smell would be gone too, pushed aside by the long, achingly bitter winter. It seemed tragic how delicate the summer was; so easy to kill.

'The summer isn't gone forever,' Remus said hoarsely. She looked up into his gentle eyes, which held a knowing look.

'I must be a pretty awful Auror if I can't even notice you doing legilimency on me,' she commented, sighing deeply.

'I didn't read your mind,' he chuckled softly. 'Just your expression.'

'That's not a good thing either! No one wants to be an open book,' she stated as they entered the Leaky Cauldron.

The pub had not cleared at all; if anything it had grown even busier. They squeezed their way to a small booth in the corner, which was one of the only free tables in the whole establishment. Tonks sighed gratefully as she sank into the velvet seat. Tom the Barman was bustling about the room, lighting candles and lanterns as the room grew darker with the onset of the night. The grimy window which they were seated next to allowed her to peer out into muggle London; bustling and illuminated.

As the turned back to face Remus, who was sitting serenely opposite her, the facts struck her. She was with Remus, in a particularly intimate section of the pub, mere hours after she had made the decision to try and keep check of her blossoming affections for him. She swallowed hard, the heat rising in her face.

'Ah! Remus, my friend!'Tom lit the lantern beside them and grinned toothlessly at Remus. 'What can I get you? On the house, of course.'

Remus smiled in gratitude and looked at Tonks, prompting her with a raise of his eyebrows. She stumbled over her choice, caught off guard, but eventually settled on the idea of a cool butterbeer. Remus ordered the same and thanked Tom again as he shuffled off to fetch their drinks.

She let out a shaky breath and threw him a grin. Their drinks arrived and she gulped the soothing liquid down slowly, the taste of her earlier hot chocolate still in her mouth.

'How's Molly?' she asked finally, concern in her voice.

'A little shaken, I think, but Arthur will help her. She's a strong woman, but her family is her greatest weakness,' he sighed, clasping his hands together on the table. His eyes met hers and he continued; 'You seemed to disappear quite suddenly, Tonks. Was something wrong?'

'It just felt like an intrusion,' she explained. 'Molly didn't want an audience while she was in such a state, surely?'

Before Remus could answer, Tonks felt her gaze slip over his shoulder into the depths of the bar. He must have noticed the look of pure horror that had appeared on her face, because he looked around in time to see Emmeline Vance stumbling over to them, her eyelids drooping over her tired-looking irises. She knocked into a plump, ruddy-faced man and apologised with a high-pitched giggle, her drink sloshing out of the glass and onto the floor.

'Remus-s...Lupin?' she slurred, peering at him as though seeing him for the first time. Emmeline then turned her head to stare incredulously at Tonks, who was gazing up in horror at the stately-looking witch.

She was absolutely smashed.

Tonks felt the bubble of laughter rise before she could even attempt to contain it. Emmeline wiggled her hip in Remus' face, knocking his shoulder. His face was reminiscent of a man being sent to his death, Tonks realised, and this only served to send her deeper into stitches of giggles, her sides aching with the effort of keeping it all in.

'Move up, Lupin! S'enough room for a little one!'

Quite to the contrary, when Emmeline wedged herself in the tiny booth next to Remus, he ended up pressed closely against the wall. The other half of him was exposed to Emmeline's wandering hands, which currently seemed preoccupied by running up and down his upper arm.

' Emmeline...' he began calmly, removing the distressed look from his face and replacing it with his usual, neutral arrangement. 'Perhaps it's time for you to go home?'

'Nonsense, Remus!' she shouted over the din, 'S'early!'

Emmeline squinted at Tonks, as though trying to make out something tiny located on her forehead. 'Nymphadra...Nympho...Tonks-s? You have pink hair, y'know? You're quite an odd little girl.'

Tonks giggled. 'Stop, Emmeline, please, you're making me blush,' she muttered, deeply amused.

'An' you trip on things, too! That's-s very sweet y'know? Isn't it, Remus-s? Isn't she a sweet thing?'

Remus seemed less than tickled by Emmeline's display. Quite the opposite; his brow was furrowed deeply as he caught hold of her wrists gently to prevent her from reaching her drink, which was making a clumsy lunge for.

'Emmeline,' he repeated, but she cut him off with a finger pressed against his thin lips.

Tonks couldn't help it any longer; she laughed openly. 'Emmeline, you're completely pissed!' she told her incredulously. 'Come on; we'll get you home and you can sleep it off. I hope you're prepared for a hangover that'll make you think tiny Death Eaters have crawled into your brain and are cursing you from the inside out.'

'Pshht!' she spluttered clumsily. 'Only had a few...can' feel...thing.'

Emmeline blinked slowly and continued, speaking to no one in particular. 'Y'know. He would have been...s-sixteen now.' Tonks frowned and looked at Remus, whose face had turned grave. 'My son...he would hav-ve been going back t'school t'morrow...' her drooping eyes met Tonks'. 'They killed him Tonks-s. He was jus' a baby...'

Her face was slowly draining of colour, leaving a pallid green hue on the blonde witch's skin.

Tonks knew that look. 'Oh god...' she groaned, shuffling out of her seat and looking urgently at Remus. 'We need to get her outside before she empties the contents of her stomach all over you,' Tonks warned quickly.

Remus nodded and helped Tonks heave Emmeline up from her slumped position. She seemed to descend further into queasiness and leaved heavily on Remus, who quickly dragged her through the parting crowd to the door.

Emmeline heaved as soon as the pavement was in view, choking and spluttering as her body purged itself of the alcohol in her stomach. Tonks winced and looked away, her own gut clenching at the sound. Remus knelt on the wet floor with Emmeline, rubbing a soothing hand over her back as she coughed and wretched.

Waves of emotion flooded Tonks. Emmeline had suffered, and had hidden in under a shell so thick that Tonks had never even considered that perhaps she was hurting inside. Her _son_; killed by Death Eaters the last time? Tonks presumed so. She had never even known that she had had a child.

It was too much; people seemed to be in distress everywhere she looked, and she was unable to offer comfort because there was honestly nothing that could be done, and they knew it. It was a world full of hurt, and tonight had tripped her up at every possible turn, opening her up to the harsh winds of the impending autumn. Summer was over, and old wounds were opening for so many people. Tonks was one of the lucky ones, she realised; she hadn't suffered any great losses, hadn't received any scars that were in danger of bursting open.

But she felt _their_ pain; the pain of her friends.

Tonks watched Remus, brushing Emmeline's hair back from her face; his mouth set in a grim line, and suddenly felt the overwhelming compulsion to crawl into his arms and cling onto him with all her strength, refusing to let him be taken by misery. All she could do was stand numbly on the pavement next to him, feeling – not for the first time today – like an intruder upon someone else's private horror.

The night was thick around them, disturbed only by Emmeline's passing heaves, which seemed to be easing into small coughs now. Remus said nothing, his hands still moving gently over the woman's back. He seemed to be deep in a shroud of thought.

'Remus?' she asked, needing to break the tense silence.

He looked up at her from his crouching position, his face grim but still gentle. 'We should get her home,' he stated, his voice low and full of compassion.

Tonks nodded wordlessly and helped him tug her to her feet. Emmeline's head was lolling now, her body exhausted from her sickness.

She tried to catch Remus' eye, but his gaze didn't budge from its fixed point, staring ahead, his face pale and tired.

* * *

Tonks shifted uncomfortably, the chair screeching in protest beneath her. Emmeline's house was small, cramped, and smelt of dust and mothballs. The walls were peeling, the paper lurid and floral. The living room was dark, with only the faint orange light of an outside streetlamp drifting in through the thin curtains. She noted the numerous empty liquor bottles, and the photos of a small boy, grinning toothless and squirming in his frames, his plump face sweet and innocent. She sighed and balled fabric of her robes in her sweaty palms.

The lounge door opened and Remus entered, his head low, a hand deep in the pocket of his robes. He sighed deeply and scratched the back of his neck. 'She'll be fine,' he told Tonks, referring to Emmeline, who he had taken to her room, she assumed, upstairs.

Tonks felt like she shouldn't be in her house; she barely knew Emmeline.

She nodded as he perched himself of a rickety-looking chair opposite her, leaning forwards. 'It's been quite a night,' she laughed nervously, wrapping her arms around herself.

The side of Remus' mouth twitched up in an imitation of a smile, and he suddenly looked too old for his face. Once again, the deep urge to enfold herself in him took hold. She wanted to take the years from him; leaving him with only the good ones, making him younger, whole and closer to his actual age. It wasn't fair that he had to take on so much responsibility and feel so much weariness.

Tonks knew that she should use this opportunity to talk to him; get to know him and little better and reinforce that she was his friend, and that she was there for him. But she simply couldn't find the words within herself.

He looked up and smiled, his first genuine smile that day, she noted. 'Nymphadora,' he sighed. She winced but let the use of her name slide. 'It's almost criminal that you have to see things like this.'

Tonks felt a pang of annoyance shoot through her. 'I'm not a child, Remus,' she defended, frowning. 'I don't need _protecting_ from the world.'

'Still, I wouldn't wish the horrors of the world upon you for anything,' he told her, running a hand through his greying hair. 'But, of course, it's inevitable. You'll face so much in the Order. But you already know that, of course,'

'Yeah, I do,' she insisted gruffly, her arms folding. 'And I'm not scared of facing it either. If I can help in the fight for our world, then it's bloody worth it, don't you think?'

Remus smiled and said, 'Yes.'

'I do think...' Tonks hesitated looking away from him. He prompted her to continue. 'I do think that _you_ see too much. I don't understand how you cope.'

He laughed hoarsely, shaking his head in disbelief. 'Believe me, I am not as noble and self sacrificing as you seem to think.'

'You _are_, though, you just can't see it,' she insisted. 'You're the bravest person I know, Remus.'

Remus frowned at her for a moment, the outline of his features illuminated in the golden light and then, quite abruptly, he stood, straightening his robes. 'We should leave. Emmeline will be perfectly fine now. Surely you're eager to get home?'

Tonks gaped in confusion for a moment, before nodding and heaving herself up from the tiny armchair.

They locked Emmeline's house as they left. As it turned out, Tonks' flat was mere minutes away, so they decided to walk. Remus had insisted on walking her home. His tone was polite, but his eyes were flat and guarded. He must be tired; they'd all had quite an evening.

Her block of flats, which had seemed so daunting earlier on, had never looked so good. Remus paused when they reached the front doors.

'Well,' he said hoarsely, smling down at her mildly. 'Goodnight, Nymphadora. Be safe.'

Tonks swallowed the disappointment that he was leaving her for the night and smiled back at him. 'I will. Night, Remus. I'll see you bright and early to take Harry to the station?'

'Ah, yes,' he agreed, amusement touching his eyes. 'You'll be coming in disguise, I assume? Will I recognise you?'

'I'd be an awful metamorphmagus, if you could,' she grinned. 'I was going to go for something a little bit inventive, actually. You'll be impressed.'

'I'm sure I will be,' he chuckled back.

There is was again; that urge to touch him, let him support her in his warm arms and never let go. Her face flushed, and she wondered just how he would react if she wrapped her arms around him, right here and now, in the cool night, outside the shabby doors of her block of flats. He looked so inviting, but, she told herself firmly, he was her colleague, and although he may seem fond of her, he was also equally as fond of everyone else. He didn't distinguish her from anyone else.

Suddenly, Molly's words from the conversation they had on the steps of Grimmauld Place drifted into her mind.

'_I think he see's __**you**__, Tonks, dear.'_

'Night, Remus,' she muttered, turning towards the doors.

'Sleep well,' he smiled, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

She heard him turn and begin to walk away. Suddenly the empty feeling in the bottom of her stomach had returned, and she realised that the pressures of the day were beginning to crash down upon her, hanging heavily on her shoulders and making her head ache.

Remus was her friend, wasn't he? And friends were for making you feel better.

'Remus, wait,' she called into the night. He turned around, his face curious.

She dashed down the concrete path towards him, not stopping until she collided with him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist for a brief moment, squeezing him tightly as she felt the pressures lift from around her. He stood very still, his entire body tensed. She buried her face in his shoulder, and then, realising that she had to let go before she overstepped her boundaries, relinquished her hold on him.

She turned wordlessly, feeling better, and dashed back towards her block of flats. The thought of her empty flat didn't bother her anymore; the warm glow that was effusing through her was enough to keep her happy for the entire night.

* * *

**I was fairly happy with this chapter :) I felt that it might have been a bit heavy but needed to put Remus and Tonks in a situation that pushed them together slightly.**

**Hopefully a light-hearted chapter will come soon!**

**Reviews make me deleriously happy, so please give generously ;)**


	4. The Wounds That We Heal

**This chapter's set just after the Order escorts Harry to Hogwarts. I'm really enjoying writing this story and really appreciate the reviews that I've recieved. They brightened my week :)**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Three: The Wounds That We Heal

'I assume you're not going to retain that form all day, Nymphadora?'

'Is that any way to talk to your elders, Remus?' Tonks sniffed, straightening the pork-pie shaped hat atop of her grey perm.

Tonks heard Remus chuckle deeply from where he walked beside her.

They were strolling slowly through a park in London, enjoying the cool lunchtime air. They were making their way back to Grimmauld Place, opting to enjoy the lingering late-summer air by walking some of the way rather than disapparating straight there. Besides, Tonks reasoned, they had made good time this morning taking Harry and the others to the station. There was nothing wrong with having a small break to appreciate the day.

And she certainly _did_ appreciate it even more with Remus Lupin walking beside her, his shoulder occasionally bumping into hers, his hair glinting in the sunlight and ruffling in the stiff breeze.

She was still morphed in her previous disguise; an old, grey haired woman. She suddenly became very aware that it must look to an outsider as though Remus was walking with his mother...

'I don't want to ruin the disguise, Remus,' she continued insistently. 'This is one of the reasons why they let me become an Auror; I'm going to make the most of it!'

'I had no idea that the old, bustling woman image was something you craved, Nymphadora,' he commented lightly.

'Firstly, Remus, that's Doris to you,' she told him, trying to maintain the serious facade which they were joking around. 'And secondly, I think I pull of this look with remarkable flair and grace. What do you reckon?'

'I-' Remus was cut off short.

'Bugger!' she exclaimed as her short heel caught on a brick and she was sent flying onto the stone pavement of the park.

Felt the familiar burn as the rough concrete skinned the heels of her palms and winced, sitting heavily on her bottom.

Not for the first time, she looked up into Remus' face from her position on the floor. It held concern and worry as he knelt down beside her instead of offering her a hand up.

'Are you alright?' he asked, looking warily at her bleeding, gritty palms, which were currently the wrinkled hands of an elderly woman.

She stared at him witheringly, 'Come off it, Remus; just because I _look_ like an old woman doesn't mean I am one.'

He smiled and took her hand firmly, helping her right herself.

'Goodness!' a high-pitched gasp behind Tonks made her turn.

A small, middle aged woman was looking at Tonks with wide eyes, her limp blonde hair falling into her eyes. A Muggle, Tonks assumed. 'Are you alright, dear? You took quite a fall!'

'Fine, fine,' Tonks smiled kindly, brushing the speckles of grit from her bottom and palms. Her calf-length, Muggle skirt felt heavy and unfamiliar, as did the old form she was in.

The woman looked at her warily; 'Very well, if you're sure.'

'I am,' Tonks assured her, trying to edge away slightly.

There was something uncomfortable-looking about the woman. She didn't seem quite right, and every instinct in Tonks' body was telling her to get away quickly. She looked up at Remus, who was frowning slightly at the woman, moving away with her.

Tonks caught one last glance at the woman, who was standing still in the spot that they had left her, her expression calm and neutral. She and Remus turned and quickly continued making their way through the large park.

'Something wasn't right about her...' Tonks whispered conspiratorially.

'I agree,' Remus answered thoughtfully as they finally exited the park through large iron gates. 'We could be completely mistaken, of course. But I will certainly be glad once we get out of here.'

'We should apparate,' Tonks sighed, leading them to an empty, sheltered alleyway between the large, grey buildings.

Remus nodded in agreement, turning on the spot. Tonks did the same, only to realise that she didn't feel the tight squeeze of apparition, and that the high walls around her were still the same.

Nothing had happened; and due to the fact that she could still see Remus, his face puzzled, she assumed he had had similar problems.

'What the-?' she asked him, frowning deeply in confusion.

They tried again to apparate, and were once again fruitless.

'What's going on?' Tonks demanded loudly, letting the image of an old woman slip, feeling the tingle as her usual form returned, pink short hair making her head cool in the breeze. Her clothes were now slightly too big. She tugged the damned pork-pie hat from her head and threw in on the floor in frustration, hiking the skirt up around her waist as it fell down her hips slightly. 'Why can't we apparate? For God's sake...'

Something caught her attention at the other side of the alley and she started, drawing her wand out quickly.

'Who's there?' she called out into the shady alley, seeing Remus draw his wand out also, his stance on guard and ready.

A small figure stepped into view, shadowed against the sunlight behind it. Tonks recognised the blonde hair and smiling face immediately, and the sense of discomfort that came with it.

'Who _are_ you?' Tonks asked harshly. 'Why are you following us?'

The woman who they had encountered in the park smiled chillingly. It sent waves of horror through Tonks' veins. Remus tensed beside her.

'My dear; I'm not following you,' she giggled silkily, 'I was following an elderly, plump woman. _You_ are a young woman with pink hair. Although, your clothes _do_ seem rather familiar.'

'Keep back,' Remus warned, as the tiny woman approached. Her cheeks here red, plumped by the smile she was wearing.

'What do you want?' Tonks asked pointing her wand directly at the woman.

'Me, dear?' she asked, simpering, her stubby hand placed over her heart. 'Well it would be nice if you would stop waving those silly sticks around, wouldn't it?'

Tonks backed away, feeling Remus do the same beside her. 'Well, if you don't mind, we'll be on our way. _Without_ you, if possible.' Tonks called to the woman, still holding her wand on her readily. As they turned to exit from the alley, they were cast into shadow by a bulky figure blocking their way. Unlike the woman, this one's role was no mystery; his face was shrouded in a long black clock, his shoulders heavily built and his short fingers twisted around his wand.

A Death Eater was blocking their only escape from the alley.

Tonks scrambled for control of the brain. She was vaguely aware that Remus had turned back to point his wand at the woman. She held her own directly at the black figure, her entire body tensed in preparation for the fight that was inevitably impending.

'Well,' she said, her teeth clenched. 'Judging by the fact that you're absolutely bloody enormous, I'm guessing; Crabbe? Just a stab in the dark.'

She saw the shadowed face twist into something that could have been a smile. He twirled his wand between his fingers with ease, looking completely and utterly relaxed.

Right at this moment, Tonks decided, she couldn't look any less like an Auror if she tried. Her loose blouse was tucked into the tweed skirt that was still ridiculously loose around her waist. She would have morphed a slightly larger physique, but wouldn't want to lose concentration and let her guard down.

When Crabbe raised his wand and pointed it, Tonks was ready. To her confusion, she found that he did not, in fact, fire a spell at her, but was instead aiming for Remus. She blocked the flash of green light that shot from Crabbe's wand, shifting to stand in front of Remus' back, flicking the curse away with effort; it was a strong spell.

She felt Remus shift slight against her back, and realised.

Their two attackers were working in unison; firing, not at the one who was holding at wand on them, but at the one who had their back to them. Tonks felt her heart sink. They were trapped in this alleyway, forced to look in opposite directions for means of defence.

Fear washed through her, hot and strong; it was infinitely more difficult to protect someone else, and she couldn't even _see_ Remus.

From what she could hear, the woman who they had previously thought of as a Muggle was now firing spells thick and fast. She could hear Remus' small grunts of effort as he blocked the spells aimed at her.

Not prepared to wait any longer for Crabbe to attack, she decided to take an offensive approach, firing a powerful stunning spell directly at him. He diverted it, creating a loud crack as it hit the brick wall beside him. He shifted quickly to the side, firing another spell at Remus' unseeing back.

The duel went on, gaining speed. She protected Remus as he did likewise behind her. She wished she could turn around and see what was happening, but didn't dare risk it.

Crabbe moved with speed that belied his bulky frame, his face shadowed. He dodged her spells, throwing them away and throwing his own back in at Remus in return.

A heavy weight was thrown into her from behind and she stumbled under the force of impact.

_Oh God._

Remus.

Had he been hit by a spell that she had missed?

She could feel his dead weight at on her foot and, mustering all of the energy she could, fought not to lose concentration. This was basic Auror Training; if someone is injured, continue to fight until the threat is eliminated before going to their aid. She could do this.

Tonks harnessed the anger that was coursing through her veins, sending it shooting down her arm as she sent a strong, wicked-fast spell from her wand. Her anger had been a godsend; Crabbe flinched as it struck him in the face before he even had the time to defend himself. He clutched his face in his hands, severely impaired, and stumbled away from the alley, disappearing out of sight.

Tonks whipped around, her wand facing where the small woman had previously been standing.

She saw what was behind her for the first time; the small women lay, pale and unmoving on the floor, her face surrounded by her blonde hair, which fanned about around her shoulders and neck, her wand limp in her hand. Tonks relaxed a little, and, with dread, looked down at her feet where Remus lay.

'Remus?' she choked out, dropping her wand and scrambling to the floor beside him.

Her heart was in her throat. Was this her fault; had she failed to defend him from a stray spell?

Tonks saw the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the flickering of his eyelids, and almost cried out in relief.

His eyes opened slightly, bleary and unfocused. 'Remus? Can you hear me?'

His eyes closed.

'Oh, for the love of God, Lupin, wake up!'

Incredibly, his lips curved up into a smile and his eyes fluttered open once again. Remus let out a tiny laugh, which turned into a deep, hacking cough. Tonks winced and cradled the back of his head, keeping it off the floor.

'Your beside manner is awful, Nymphadora,' he smiled weakly at her from the ground.

'You're not _in_ bed, Remus,' she shot back, a grin spreading across her face. 'What happened?'

'I don't know. I was blocking the spells she was sending at you. Then something hit me from behind. I must have smashed into the wall and took a blow to the head...' he looked concerned, 'Are _you_ alright?'

'I'm fine,' she mumbled in response, ashamed that she let a curse hit him. 'Are you injured anywhere else?'

He looked reluctant. 'I'll be fine,' he told her gently.

'Remus, don't be daft; tell me where you're injured!' she almost shouted, looking him over quickly.

'I'm afraid-' another hacking cough racked through him. 'I'm afraid that I seem to be bleeding.'

'Where?'

The next cough that forced its way up brought a small amount of blood with it, and Tonks felt terror run through her. 'Remus, where are you bleeding?'

That's when she saw it; he was lying in a pool of blood that was slowly growing in size, becoming visible as it grew and appeared around his sides. She lifted him slightly, and saw an extremely deep gash just below the back of his neck, from which hot, thick blood was pouring.

'Oh no, Remus,' she gasped as he grunted in pain.

Her shaking hands were coated in his blood, and she attempted to raise him higher from the ground, needing to get him to St. Mungos. 'Remus, we need to get out of here so we can apparate. They must have blocked in the alley to trap us.'

He nodded, and, his face set without any show of the pain he was obviously feeling, lifted himself up unsteadily with her help.

As soon as he was supported heavily on her side, she turned her head to check on the woman, still lying unconscious on the floor.

Her face looked completely limp. 'What did you hit her with?' Tonks asked.

'I just stunned her,' Remus responded, gritting his teeth against the pain.

The woman remained unmoving, her face growing ever-more slack. In fact, her skin seemed to be melting off her face. The limps of her small frame were lengthening, her skin growing more weathered and her blonde hair retracting into her head. Soon, the woman was gone completely, replaced by a limp, male body.

She recognised the figure immediately. 'Remus, its Honeysuckle!' she gasped. 'He must have taken Polyjuice Potion!'

When Remus did not respond, Tonks panicked. It took all of her strength to drag him out of the alley, far away enough that she could apparate them to the hospital.

When she had turned up in the large entrance room of St. Mungos, covered in Remus' blood, help was instantly on hand. They conjured a stretcher for Remus and held thick white gauze over the deep wound in his back.

Tonks hurried worriedly next to the stretcher, questioning the Healers furiously.

'Please, Miss,' a young, male Healer pleaded. 'Let me do my job. You're slowing us down.'

'Slowing you down, my arse,' Tonks shot back, anger washing through her. 'You have to tell me if he's going to be okay! I mean...it's just a cut, isn't it?'

The male Healer stopped in the middle of the large, sterile corridor, turning to face her. Tonks watched anxiously as the stretcher carrying Remus floated away, surrounded by bustling Healers.

'Miss, do you know how he sustained this injury?' he asked, his eyes urgent.

'I...' she considered what she should say. She needed to keep the Order a secret. She sighed, pondering her words. 'It's my fault, really.'

The Healer's eye widened. 'When you say it's your fault...' he looked sheepish. 'This wasn't an unexpected consequence of any kind of sexual practice, was it?'

Tonks gaped. 'What? No!' she shuddered. 'Are you mad? He was attacked.'

The Healer looked at her seriously, his grey eyes held relief. 'Sorry,' he said, his face relaxing slightly. 'You would be surprised how many...' he stopped himself. 'Well anyway, his wound looks quite serious. Hopefully we should be able to heal it mostly with magic, but there's only a certain amount we can do for such a deep wound, I'm afraid.'

Tonks nodded, and pondered whether or not to tell them about his werewolf situation. It was too late now, she reasoned, as the male healer walked away, catching up with the stretcher.

Her head hurt; she couldn't keep moving anymore. Guilt and self-disappointment rushed through her and she backed away until she found a cold, sterile wall. She slid down it, holding her head in her hands until and vowing to stay there until she regained the ability to breathe.

* * *

'Constant vigilance, girl,'

'Oh, be quiet.'

Tonks hunched over further in the waiting-room chair, her hands clasped firmly in her lap. Her shoulders were tensed to the point where she couldn't lower them even if she tried. She and Mad-Eye were waiting outside the ward, anxiously awaiting news on Remus, who had entered over an hour ago.

Moody grunted and shifted in his own seat, his wooden leg noisy against the polished floor. 'You were attacked,' he growled. 'You shouldn't let your guard down, not now, Tonks, when you're most at risk.'

'My guard _isn't _down, Mad-Eye,' she shot back.

'Your letting your emotion break your concentration,' he told her angrily. 'Now would be the optimum time for attack.'

'Mad-Eye,' she began, her teeth clenched. 'There's no one here but us. If someone appears out of thin air and tries to kill me, I will be ready, but as of this moment, they're not. So can we please stop talking about this?'

Mad-Eye said nothing; he simply drew out his hip-flask and took a generous swig.

'You can't drink in here,' Tonks told him glumly.

Mad-Eye ignored her and took another swig before stowing the flask back in his robes. 'So the woman who attacked you was Honeysuckle in disguise?' he asked gruffly.

'Yeah,' Tonks' voice was muffled by the hand which she was resting her head on, her eyes on the floor. 'He took Polyjuice Potion by the look of it. Why would he do that? Why not just follow us without being noticed?'

'That remains to be seen,' Moody told her.

His magical-eye was swirling around at an incredible speed, making her nauseous as she watched it. Tonks looked away, looking at her feet again, waves of guilt rising to the surface.

'Don't take it as a personal failure, Tonks,' Moody said suddenly, his voice as harsh as ever.

'It's my fault that he's in here,' she almost shouted, her head snapping up. 'We were protecting each other. He did his job; I'm still here in a good condition. But I let him down, Mad-Eye. He's in here because I let one go unnoticed.'

'But still,' Moody continued. 'You were in an extremely difficult position. You couldn't _see_ Lupin, for one thing. I know Aurors who would have let their partners take considerably more hits than you did. You performed admirably, Tonks.'

'He didn't let me get hit,' Tonks repeated to Moody, her brow furrowed. 'I should have been better.'

Moody looked extremely uncomfortable at her display of insecurity. 'Lupin won't hold you responsible; I can tell you that. If anything he'll thank you for not letting him get injured further. Now stop this; worrying about what you should have done isn't going to heal wounds.'

Moody had finished with a tone that told Tonks that their conversation was over. She sighed and one again looked at the over-polished, over-sterile floor.

Remus was just inside those doors, fighting for his life, most probably. She felt sick; the full moon was tomorrow, as he had told her yesterday when she had ran into him in Diagon Alley. What would the hospital do if he wasn't well enough to leave before then? Would they insist that he leaves anyway, knowing that it would be dangerous? Or would they risk keeping him in? Surely, they would be able to produce a decent draft of Wolfsbane?

She swallowed the urge to break down the door and shout that they simply _had_ to save him.

'Oh!' the breathless gasp made her look up quickly.

Not for the first time that week, she was surprised to see the usually composed Emmeline Vance, flustered. Her blonde hair was coming out of a neat bun on the top of her head, and she was clutching her chest as though she had run the length of the hospital. Tonks flushed and looked away; the memory of Emmeline's drunken display last night flashing through her mind.

'Wotcher, Emmeline,' she muttered, looking away.

'Tonks,' she greeted, her voice even save for the panting breaths that she was still drawing. 'How is he? Sirius owled me, I came as quick as I could.'

Tonks brushed aside the annoyance that flared inside her. No one else had felt the need to run to St Mungos; why had she?

'We don't know yet,' Tonks told her, looking up into her structured face. She was, as Tonks had predicted last night, holding all of the signs of a severe hangover. Her eyes were squinting against the harsh hospital light, her face pallid and clammy-looking.

Tonks felt a pang of sympathy and felt ashamed for her hostile feelings towards the witch. She was just concerned for the fellow Order-member, just as Tonks was.

'He...he should be okay,' Tonks continued, trying to arrange her face into something more friendly. 'It's a deep wound. They might not be able to heal it all the way, but they're trying their best. We'll just have to wait.'

Emmeline nodded briskly and took a seat next the Mad-Eye, looking as though she was fighting the urge to vomit. Tonks empathised.

An uncomfortable silence stretched for another agonising half an hour. When the ward door finally opened, Tonks practically jumped up from her seat, resisting the strong urge to shake the Healer that appeared, demanding information.

'Are you here for Mr. Lupin?' the young, red-haired Healer asked. Tonks nodded and approached her. She smiled kindly. 'He's stable. We were able to close the wound but it will be fragile for a few weeks, and he lost a lot of blood.'

Moody had hobbled over to stand next to Tonks, Emmeline following closely behind.

The Healer's face became grave. 'Although, his lycanthropy presents quite a problem. The full moon is tomorrow, I believe? Unfortunately, the transformation may cause the wound to reopen. And of course, we can't keep him in overnight for safety reasons...'

'_What_?' Tonks asked, heat flooding her face in anger. 'You can't be serious?'

'I'm afraid we...'

'You just going to send him away, when there's a risk that he could be in serious danger?' Tonks ground out, her jaw tight.

'Tonks,' Mad-Eye growled warningly from beside her.

The Healer looked quite frightened by her sudden outburst, and began fiddling shakily with the collar of her robes. 'Well I...You...You can see him now, if you wish?'

Tonks tried to calm down, tried to tell herself that Remus was fine. She didn't need to feel guilty anymore, surely?

'Yes.' Tonks tried a smile and failed miserably. 'Thanks. That'd be great.'

They were lead into the small room, which held only two beds. One was empty, the other belonged to Remus. The light in the room was grey, and Tonks had to calm her heart down when she saw Remus, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. He was hunched over uncomfortably, pulling his ragged shirt back on, giving her a flash of smooth, pale flesh and the clean white bandage that was wrapped around his chest. And then it was gone, and he was buttoning up the shirt.

'Remus,' she called in relief. He looked up quickly, his face holding pain, and gave her a weak smile.

'Lupin,' Moody greeted gruffly, giving a small nod.

Emmeline remained silent, lingering slightly behind Moody. 'Tonks,' he greeted with a smile. 'Alastor. Emmeline.'

'How are you feeling?' Tonks asked, perching herself next to him on the bed.

He let out a wry little laugh, 'Better,' he nodded, wincing slightly.

He suddenly looked at her, his eyes running over her body. At first, Tonks thought that he was checking her for injuries, but then, as she looked down at herself, she realised. Her clothes were still stained with his blood, the skirt and tweed blouse still overly loose for her frame. She shifted uncomfortably as he gave her a disapproving look, before reaching for his wand and performing the cleaning spell that she had forgotten to do earlier. It removed most of the blood, and left her clothes feeling less stiff and caked. She smiled at him in thanks, sure that she wouldn't have been able to such a good job herself.

Standing next to the bed, Emmeline gave a small, uncomfortable cough. Tonks ignored her and looked worriedly as Remus made to get up.

'Should you really be moving?' she asked, frowning.

'I'm afraid I don't have much of a choice, Nymphadora,' he winced again, pushing himself up and pulling on the shabby robes that had been cleaned and draped over the chair next to the bed.

'We're glad you're alright, Lupin,' Moody told him gruffly, holding out a hand. Remus shook it and continued dressing. 'We'll wait outside for you until you're ready. And then we'll escort you back to headquarters. Tonks – if you want to stop at your flat for a change of clothes, that's fine. But remember to be as vigilant as possible...'

As Mad-Eye and Emmeline left the room, Tonks remained perched on the end of the bed, watching as Remus straightened out his robes, wincing at the movement. He looked down at her, curious.

'I'm really sorry, Remus,' she told him honestly, her eyes pleading. 'It's my fault you got hit...I'm really, really sorry.'

He chuckled gently, 'It's honestly fine, Tonks,' he told her. 'You don't need to apologise. I don't blame you in the slightest. I'm simply glad that we're both still alive.'

Tonks nodded and looked at her knees. He picked up his wand from the bedside table and, stowing it carefully in his robes, made a gesture for them to leave.

Tonks stood, but made no move to leave. Instead, she took the few steps to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. She turned her head so that she could lay it on his chest, her embrace tightening slightly. She felt her entire body relax in relief, finally satisfied that he was safe. Unlike last night, when he had merely remained still against her, this time she felt the gentle pressure of his own arms around her shoulders, and the warmth of his hand splayed between his shoulder blades. She resisted the urge to sob with relief.

And then he was gone, releasing her gently, sending her a warm smile and exiting the room, his movements stiff and pained.

Tonks drew a shaky breath and followed her limbs heavy.

* * *

'God, Moony, you couldn't milk this any more if you tried, could you?'

Remus chuckled hoarsely, and it sent waves of relief crashing through her, a smile blossoming on her own face.

Tonks watched in amusement as Sirius reluctantly heaved himself up from his chair, crossing the kitchen to the sink, grabbing a rag and beginning to wash various pots and pans. It was late; Remus had arrived at Grimmauld Place after a long day and, after the Order meeting in which they had relayed everything that had occurred, Tonks had decided to stay for a little while. The stone kitchen was empty except for the three of them, and the fire was crackling peacefully.

'I apologise if my being attacked results in you having to do the washing up for once, Sirius,' Remus threw back, smiling from his chair. 'I will be sure to be more considerate next time I sustain an injury.'

'So you should be,' Sirius muttered, flicking a wave of black hair over his shoulder and shooting a resentful glance back over his shoulder. The sound of running water and the scrubbing of pans lulled Tonks into a peaceful stupor.

'And what about you, dear cousin?' Tonks looked up and found Sirius shooting her a resentful look. 'What's your excuse?'

'Well, someone's got to make sure Remus doesn't collapse into a big, injured heap, haven't they?' Tonks smiled smugly as Sirius threw a collection of lazily-cleaned pans and dishes onto the side with a loud crash. 'Can't you do those with magic?' Tonks nodded at the dished, wincing as another crash echoed around the room.

'Molly says I have to do them by hand,' Sirius muttered glumly, 'She says my cleaning spells are appalling. And don't really fancy eating off plates that Kreacher's had his grubby little hands on...'

'Molly's not even staying here anymore, Padfoot, and she's still got you living in a state of constant fear,' Remus chuckled, sipping his drink and relaxing further into his chair. Tonks noticed him wince slightly in pain.

'Cleaning spells must be a genetic weakness; I can't do them to save my life,' Tonks joked, enjoying the display of Sirius' frustration at the mountain of washing up.

'I daresay my dear mother suffered from the same affliction,' Sirius told her with a wink.

Tonks laughed deeply and sighed, realising that she had an early start for work tomorrow. She glanced at the clock, which informed her that it was nearing midnight. She found it, despite the time, to be extremely difficult to find the will to leave. The fireplace was warm, the wooden kitchen chair surprisingly comfortable, and she felt a sense of peaceful friendship that she hadn't felt since her school days. Then, of course, there was the warm tingle at the base of her stomach whenever Remus looked at her, talked to her, or even did that amused smirk that set delicious shadows in the premature lines around his cheekbones.

His soft eyes met her, twinkling in the light of the fire and he smiled. 'Everything alright, Nymphadora?'

'Fine!' she answered too quickly. 'Lovely, even. I mean...not that it's been a lovely day because you...well, you know.' She could feel her blood rushing to her face and, from the corner of she saw Sirius turn away from the sink to look at her. 'I mean...I'm glad that you're alright.'

She heard Sirius' snort echo through the stone kitchen and shot him a glare as he turned back to the sink, finishing the last few pots and pans with careless ease.

Remus smiled at her, his face almost glowing in the firelight. It was difficult not to get pulled into the gentle lull of a trance, in the soft orange light. But she must resist, of course, in case she started trying to gaze lovingly into his eyes. Which, Tonks was certain would end up being excruciatingly embarrassing.

'No harm done,' Remus sighed, folding his arms across his chest and running a weary hand over his face. He looked worried.

'Remus...' she began, her stomach twisting. 'The Healer...when I spoke to her...she mentioned that your wound could be...reopened?'

A muscle in Remus' jaw seemed to twitch. 'Ah,' he said quietly. 'Yes, that possibility remains.'

'Aren't you worried?' Tonks asked, feeling her eyes widen.

'I have been wounded during the full moon before,' Remus told her serenely. 'It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry yourself, Tonks.'

Tonks nodded tersely, powerless to do anything else. She noted that Sirius had gone extremely quiet, his shoulders tensed. He was obviously listening intently. When the conversation did not continue, Sirius threw the last dripping wet dish onto the side, and with a flick of his wand, sent them into their respective cupboards. He sat down, his face steady.

'I still don't understand why you were attacked,' Sirius stated, sipping his drink thoughtfully. 'I mean, we were with Harry all morning. Why wait until you were alone? I personally would have relished the chance to... '

Remus cut his off with a raised hand and a deep frown. 'Please Sirius, your thirst for excitement is becoming draining. This is a serious matter. You wouldn't have wanted Harry to be in danger.'

'Every second sent away from us; that's when he's in danger,' Sirius ground out, his teeth clenched.

Before Remus could respond, a loud bang resounded, originating from somewhere upstairs. It was followed by a blood-curdling screech. Sirius groaned irritably, shouting; 'Kreacher! Oh for Goodness sake, what's the useless cretin done now?'

Sirius crossed the room in long strides, taking the stairs two at a time, angry mutters falling from his lips. Tonks swallowed. Her mouth dry as she and Remus were left alone in the warm, dim kitchen.

She searched for a conversation, drawing a blank. 'Tea?' she asked, fidgeting nervously with her robes, creasing them into the shape of her palm.

'I'm fine, thank you,' He smiled. 'I'm afraid I have a somewhat less pleasant beverage which commands my attention.'

He dug inside his robes, and gingerly pulled out the old bottle of Wolfsbane potion which he had purchased from Diagon Alley the day before. He carefully pulled the cork out with a small pop, and poured it into the empty cup before him. The way his eyes flickered uncomfortably to her told Tonks that he didn't appreciate being watched. She couldn't help it.

'Remus,' she began. 'I really don't think you should take that. It could make you ill...'

He gave a small, wry laugh, before raising it to his lips and taking a large, pained gulp. 'I would rather my body suffer than my mind,' he told her quietly. He looked nauseous, and he seemed to shy away from the cup for a moment, closing his eyes with a frown and trying to recompose his stomach, which she could almost see trying to reject the vile potion which he was forcing down.

'Will it work?' she asked curiously. 'If it's off, will you still keep your conscious mind?'

He looked thoughtful for a moment. 'It can vary from brew to brew. Sometimes I will retain a small amount of awareness, and sometimes I will wake up entirely oblivious to how I spent the full moon. It's a chance I'm willing to take.'

He drained the cup with a wince and set it down. Tonks realised that he had signalled the end of that particular conversation.

'Are you in the office tomorrow?' he asked kindly, his eyes polite.

'Yeah,' she sighed. 'A mountain of paperwork to get done. And there'll be chaos around the whole bloody place tomorrow. I think there's actually talk of an 'Umbridge-is-gone-for-a-whole-school-term' party.'

'Now that,' Remus told her seriously, 'is a glorious thing to celebrate.'

'Not so glorious for Harry and the others, though,' Tonks chuckled. 'I would have packed up my things and left school if Umbridge was my teacher.'

'Ah,' Remus chuckled. 'You were the melodramatic type, then, Nymphadora?'

'I liked to think of it as spirited, I think,' Tonks laughed.

'There's nothing wrong with a bit of spirit,' Remus nodded. 'It's a quality I admire in you. That and your knack of dodging Alastor's bad side.'

'Mad-Eye's a teddy-bear, Remus,' Tonks winked quickly. 'You just need to search for his cuddly side.'

'A difficult feat,' Remus answered, a smile spreading across his face.

Tonks settled deeper into her chair, sighing happily. The guilt that had plagued her all day had eased; leaving a strong sense of relief that washed through her and made her mind bleary.

She stayed long after Sirius had returned, cursing Kreacher to the heavens. By the time she reluctantly announced that she had to be heading off, her eyes were beginning to droop with longing for sleep. She said hasty goodbyes, finding it extremely difficult to step from the warm, welcoming kitchen into the cool, damp night.

The mist hung around in the air, clinging to her clothes and hair, and she gazed worriedly at the moon as it hung in the sky, tantalizingly full.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! A new chapter should be up soon hopefully.**

**Please review and make me smile ;)**


	5. The Colours of the Moon

**I had a little experience of writers block whilst writing this chapter, so I hope it doesn't seem laboured, as it took a little longer to write.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Four: The Colours of the Moon

Tonks frowned, the delights of British weather attacking her from all sides.

The moon was full, looming threateningly above her as she waited in the cool, damp drizzle, outside the front door of Grimmauld Place. She shivered, drawing her robes tighter around her tense shoulders. Her boots squelched on the stone step and she knocked on the heavy door once again, more urgently this time.

It was a considerable amount of time until she heard the heavy bolts and catches lift, and the smallest of gaps appear, a large eye peering suspiciously out.

A frustrated growl followed, the door being flung open to reveal the scowling face of her cousin, Sirius Black. He folded his arms over his broad chest and considered her, suspiciously.

'Tonks,' he began warningly. 'You really shouldn't be here, you know.'

'I couldn't sleep,' she told him, trying to look innocent; trying to appear oblivious to the large moon watching them from above. 'Can't I come in?'

Sirius' scowl deepened 'No, you can't,' he told her firmly. 'And you know why.'

'Gosh,' she said, 'don't fall over yourself trying to help a poor, young witch caught out in the rain, will you?'

'Conjure an umbrella if you're that bothered.'

'Sirius!' she protested, hands on her hips. 'You're being vile. Been drinking from Mad-Eye's flask?'

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his unshaven face. 'Look, Tonks. I know why you're here,' he told her seriously. 'He won't like it, and you know it.'

'What Remus needs right now is a friendly face, surely?' she asked, her eyes pleading.

'Right at this moment, Tonks,' Sirius told her through clenched teeth. 'He can't tell a friendly face from an unfriendly one; they all look like walking buffets.'

Tonks swallowed, fear and concern creeping onto her face. 'The potion didn't work, then, I take it?'

Sirius sighed. His eyes held so much worry for his friend, it almost felt painful to watch.

'Fine, come in,' He gave in, opening the door wide for her.

She stepped gratefully into the dingy hall, the smell of damp rain replaced with the musk of dust and grime. She shrugged her favourite, deep purple overcoat from her shoulders and shook out her hair, trying to dispel the chill that had settled in her bones. Sirius was watching her from the gloom, his arms still folded over his chest, relaying his deep disapproval of her presence.

'Look,' she began, unable to take the tension any longer. 'It's not like I'm going to go barging in when he's still transformed. It's only a few hours until sunrise. I just want to make sure he's alright when he changes back. Is that such a crime?'

'Not a crime,' Sirius agreed lightly. 'Just unnecessary.'

'If his wound reopens, Sirius,' she pleaded, 'it will be on my conscience.'

'If his wound reopens I can deal with it,' Sirius told her, his face dark. 'I don't need any extra help if that's what you were thinking.'

'I'm an Auror, Sirius,' she shot back, trying to match his dangerous expression. 'I can handle things like this perfectly well.'

'You don't understand, Tonks,' Sirius pleaded, the dark look replaced with one of exasperation. 'This isn't about damage to his health. You being here will hurt his _pride_. It'd hurt the pride of _any_ bloke in his situation.'

Tonks pushed aside the shame that threatened to spread through her, maintaining her sturdy expression. 'Remus knows better than to be embarrassed.'

Sirius raised a thick, black eyebrow. 'Does he?'

'Of course he does,' Tonks insisted, pushing away the doubt that tapped her on the shoulder and threatened to eat her nerve alive. 'Besides,' she continued, 'I wanted a nice chat with my dear cousin.'

She grinned as widely as she could, the muscles in her face protesting. Sirius' eyebrow reached new heights.

'At three in the morning?' he asked dryly. 'You must have an extremely wonderful, interesting, and dare I say...devilishly handsome cousin?'

'Oh,' she agreed seriously. 'I do.' Sirius remained unwavering. Tonks dug out her old whiny voice, which had been buried away many years ago, perfected in her teenage years. '_Please_, Sirius, just let me stay for a few hours?'

He groaned loudly, throwing his hands up in defeat. 'Fine, you can stay. But don't blame me when Moony goes all post-lunar-tension on your behind.'

'I'm terrified,' she told him wryly, following him through the dark hallway towards the wooden door leading to the kitchen.

'You should be,' Sirius replied, glancing at her in profile. 'Trying to get him out of his bed after a full moon isn't pretty. It's like trying to tell a sixteen year old witch that Gilderoy Lockhart's hair turns oily in hot weather.'

Tonks blinked.

The kitchen was as welcoming as ever as she descended the stairs. The fireplace crackled happily, sending beams of rich light waltzing around the dark room. This room held so much comfort for her; it was a sanctuary, in a way that her cold flat could never be. It felt like being home again.

It was a feeling – she tried to tell herself – that had nothing to do with Remus' constant presence.

As she looked around, she noticed with vague surprise that the ragged, lumpy shape of Mundungus Fletcher was sprawled out. He sat, hanging off the edge of a wooden seat, his head resting heavily on the table. He was snoring loudly, the sound guttural and slightly unhealthy. Sirius gave him a quick shove, nearly sending the stumpy man flying off his seat as he awoke with a jolt.

'Eh? Eh, whassit morning already?' he asked blearily as Sirius sat next to him, folding his arms tensely.

'No, Dung,' Sirius sighed. 'Tonks is here.'

Dung fought to focus, his eyes on her. When she had first joined the Order, she had noted the worried look which always seemed to plague his face whenever he saw her. Tonks noted that it most definitely had something to do with her position as an Auror. Since then, he had grown seemingly less cautious, talking to her on more frequent occasions.

'Tonks,' Dung repeated in astonishment.

'Wotcher, Dung,' Tonks smiled. She took a seat opposite Sirius, resting heavily on her elbows. 'What are you doing here?'

Mundungus pulled the almost-empty bottle of firewhisky towards him, guarding it closely. He gave a small hiccup at he drained the rest of the liquid.

'Came t'give Sirius a hand,' Dung replied, still hiccupping. 'Gets a bit dangerous this time o' the month, don't it? Best not to leave 'im on 'is own.'

Sirius gave a loud snort, flipping his tumble of black hair over his shoulder carelessly. 'Well, that...and the fact that the Ministry are after you for trying to sell those young witches potions that would allegedly 'make all of their skin problems simply vanish'. Honestly, Dung, couldn't you have tried to fool two girls who whose father _wasn't_ a close personal friend of Umbridge and Fudge?'

'Well I din't know did I, eh?' Dung shot back, shooting Tonks a furtive glance. 'An' the potion did exactly what I said it did.'

'Their _entire faces_ vanished,' Sirius said.

'An' no one can see them nasty skin problems no more, can they, eh?' Dung defended furiously. 'Anyways, nevermin' that. What you doin' here so late, Tonks?'

'I just thought I'd stop by and get the inside scoop on all of your antics, Dung,' she winked.

She heard Sirius give a dry little cough, but ignored him. She glanced at the clock; it was two hours until the sun would rise, pushing the ghastly full moon out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.

'Didn' you know 'bout Lupin?' Dung frowned.

Tonks drew and unsteady breath. 'Yeah,' she tried to say nonchalantly. 'I knew. I didn't think you'd object to having extra help on hand.'

'Will 'e want you 'ere?' Dung frowned, peering through his narrow eyes, confusion on his face.

Great. Now her intentions were being questioned by Mundungus Fletcher of all people. Perhaps this _had_ been a bad idea.

'Sure he will,' Tonks reasoned, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. 'I'm his work-partner. We're friends.'

Mundungus, to her relief, had already lost interest in the conversation, and was now rooting around in his pockets, with a look of intense concentration on his face. He smiled in triumph and drew out his closed fist.

'What's-'

Before she could ask, he had dropped the contents of his palm onto the table. A tiny little gold figure squirmed, scrambling as it tried to gain purchase and right itself on the wooden surface. The creature seemed to be a miniscule gnome, with its tiny little limbs and disproportionate head amounting to it being no bigger than her index finger. It shook out its arms and legs, seeming a little stiff, and then proceeded to face Mundungus, glaring up at the man looming over it with tiny hands settled on tiny hips. But it was different to a regular gnome, not only in its size, but in the fact that it seemed to shimmer as though it had been dipped into molten gold.

'What is it?' Tonks asked curiously, as the tiny gnome sat down huffily, crossing its little legs.

'Special, rare kind o' gnome,' Mundungus informed her, unhelpfully. 'They like t'run at the bottom o' rivers an' trick muggles into thinkin' they've struck gold.'

'Why do _you_ have one?' Tonks asked, raising an eyebrow.

'I was on m'way to visit this fella what collects 'em. He's not 'fraid to pay a good sum for 'em, too.'

'And you'd leave out the fact that you stole that one from him in the first place?' Sirius asked, smirking.

'Well, 'm not gonna tell 'im, am I?' Dung asked incredulously.

Tonks watched as the little creature squirmed in its seat, trying to allow the strange movements distract her from the ticking clock on the wall, which was moving slower than ever. At the thought of seeing Remus so soon after the full moon, her stomach clenched and her knees felt weak with anxiety. Sirius was perched uncomfortably on the end of his chair, his gaze flickering between the clock and the crackling fire. Tonks had never seen her cousin so anxious.

The question that she had been pondering for a while burst forth, 'Where is he?'

Sirius glanced at her from the corner of his eye. 'He's upstairs. Top floor. There's a room with an impenetrable charm around it; only I can open it.'

'Ah,' Tonks replied, not able to resist casting a flickering glance towards the ceiling, as though she would be able to see through the layers of stone and wooden flooring, into the room where Remus resided, transformed.

She shook her head and once again checked the time; only half an hour had passed. The hands seemed to be teasing her, lingering infuriatingly on each number simply to annoy her. Tonks sighed and rubbed a hand through her hair, which was still damp at the ends after standing out in the drizzle.

Tonks scrambled for conversation. 'Have you heard from Harry, Sirius?'

'He wrote,' Sirius nodded, his eyes seeming to relax a little. 'He's alright. He doesn't think much of the lovely Umbridge, though.'

'Who _does_?' Tonks chuckled.

'Fudge, it would seem,' Sirius muttered resentfully, his eyes on the table. 'I wouldn't be surprised if they were at it like -'

'Ergh!' Tonks interrupted him, holding up a hand. 'Please, stop before I vomit.'

'I'll bet that's what Fudge said.' Sirius winked, his mouth pulled up at the corners in a genuine smile.

Tonks grinned back, glad that he wasn't quite as tense as earlier. Perhaps her coming here wasn't such a bad idea after all? Sirius didn't resent her presence; he was simply worried for his best friend.

'Oi!' Mundungus' voice cut through her musing. The tiny gnome was dodging recapture skilfully, weaving around his clumsy hands as he attempted to trap it once again. 'Get back 'ere, you little git!'

It was too late; in a flash of shimmering gold, the teeny gnome had fled on its tiny legs, running the width of the table, leaping through the air, onto the chair at the far end, and whizzing out of sight to freedom. Dung had leapt at the creature, his hands outstretched and his face urgent, knocking his chair over in the process.

'Nice one, Dung,' Sirius commented dryly. 'Regretting taking it out of your pocket to try and impress Tonks, are we?'

Dung righted himself, muttering angrily under his breath.

The next hour passed agonisingly slowly. Tonks was plagued by the dreams she had experienced in the few hours sleep she had caught earlier; Remus getting hit by the curse, Remus falling to the ground, Remus' blood on her hands...

Truth be told, she had no idea what she would do if she found Remus' wound had reopened after the transformation. The guilt would gnaw at her stomach until she wouldn't even be able to think. And, what if she lost him? What if he didn't want to work with her anymore, or worse...?

What if he bled to death?

She could barely breathe anymore. Her eyes refused to leave the clock.

It was almost dawn; she could feel it in the pit of her stomach, as clearly as her imagination conjured images of large, wolfish limbs cracking and reforming into human arms and legs.

Before she could register that any time more time had passed, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sirius' chair scraping harshly against the stone floor of the kitchen. It pulled her back into the present with an urgent tug, and Tonks looked up into her cousin' frowning face.

'I'll be back soon,' Sirius muttered, casting a short, worried glance in her direction.

Tonks nodded and settled back into her chair, resolving to protest as little as possible. Sirius had, after all, gone against his better judgement when he had allowed her to stay.

Sirius left the room, loud thuds echoing in his wake as he took the stairs two at a time. Tonks waited anxiously as the sound died down, turning into muffled bangs which seemed to come from the ceiling above her. She was reluctant to look at Mundungus, afraid that he would start asking questions as to why she was here, so she settled for gazing pointlessly at the cold stone above their heads.

Her palms had broken out into a cold sweat, and she tried in vain to wipe them dry on the knees of her robes. What state would Remus be in when he appeared? Would he be angry when he saw her there?

What seemed like an age later, Tonks finally heard to telltale sounds of two pairs of feet moving above her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but one sounded slightly more laboured and slow.

She held her breath as the kitchen door opened, and someone entered. She didn't dare look round; her nerve had vanished, and all she could do was sit very still, her back to the door.

'Tonks?'

The voice seemed flat and most unlike him. Tonks whipped her head around.

Remus was standing there, looking utterly shocked. He was uncharacteristically dishevelled, with his shirt buttoned up haphazardly and his eyes lined with deep purple rings. She noticed with relief that he didn't seem to be bleeding. Her eyes followed the line of his chest and neck, back up to his face, which was still looking at her in blank, unseeing shock. Sirius was stood behind him, his gaze flickering worriedly between Remus and herself.

Quite suddenly, the shock turned hostile. 'What are you _doing_ here?'

Her own shock turned into a flame of anger, which burnt up through her throat. She had been concerned; it was nothing for him to resent her for, and she wasn't prepared to be ushered out of the door simply for caring.

'I came to make sure _you_ were _alright_,' she responded clearly, folding her arms over her chest.

He growled in frustration, seeming most unlike Remus. He swept across the room and sat himself heavily in a chair, facing away from her slightly. He leant forwards laboriously, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Leave, Tonks. You really shouldn't be here.' He sighed tensely.

'Why should I?' she demanded, feeling her hackles rise. 'I was worried about you, Remus!'

'There was no need to be,' he snapped. 'I go through this process frequently. I am perfectly capable of being 'alright', Nymphadora.'

The sound of her God-awful name did nothing to quell her anger. 'Well I'm sorry for being concerned about you, then!' she shot back, fully aware that she was sounding like a child. 'I'll leave, shall I?'

Her face was burning, and she refused to meet the eyes of anyone in the room. She knew that Sirius would be sporting a knowing look, and that Mundungus' mouth would be hanging open in gormless shock. She rose from her chair, the scraping sound filling the silent room, and stalked towards the door, which seemed impossibly far away.

Before she could reach it, a large hand had wrapped around hers, stopping her going any further.

She looked up from the floor, trying to morph away the blush that was rising. Remus was gripping her hand firmly, his fingers still gripping the top of his nose, his eyes closed. He hadn't moved from his seat, and had intercepted her as she had passed his seat. She didn't struggle to break free of his hold.

'I'm sorry,' he said quietly. 'I just feel a little...' he seemed to be struggling for words, 'I'm not myself right now. I'm being unfair, and I apologise.'

Tonks tried to focus of pulling her hand from the warm confines of his, but found it exceedingly difficult to do so. With a little effort, she managed it.

'It's alright,' she replied tersely. 'Don't worry about it.'

She suddenly felt bad for causing him stress; he had, after all, just been through an extremely tiring and painful process.

Tonks shuffled back to her seat, her hands deep in the pockets of her robes, tightly clenched. She sat down stiffly, greeted by the gaping face of Dung, looking between her and Remus, utterly bemused. Sirius had also sat down, next to Remus.

'Are you sure that you're alright, Moony?' Sirius asked, frowning.

'Yes,' Remus replied with a wince as he shifted slightly. 'The Wolfsbane seemed to help a little with the pain. And my earlier wound didn't reopen. I consider myself to have been extremely lucky. I do, however, have a headache the size of your ego, Sirius.'

A muscle in Sirius' cheek twitched with the urge to smile, but he remained seemingly concerned. Tonks let her eyes travel over Remus, taking him in. He seemed as guarded as ever, despite his current state of physical distress. Sections of his neck and face seemed to be sporting slight bruises, as though the skin had been put under a gruelling challenge. He kept his eyes locked on the floor, his eyelashes casting shadows under his eyes, making the dark circles seem even more severe.

In that moment, he looked so old, yet so young simultaneously.

'Can I get you anything, Remus?' she blurted out, surprising herself.

'I could murder a cup of tea,' he smiled, still looking away. She got up quickly, and he made to rise from his seat. 'I'll help you...'

'Don't be silly, Remus!' she protested, making her way to the cabinets to fetch mugs. 'Sit down...I think I can manage a few cups of tea, don't you?'

He looked apprehensive.

As it turned out, Tonks couldn't manage it quite as well as she anticipated. Her usual clumsiness, with the added factor of her slightly shaking hands, proved to be a lethal combination.

She blushed and hastily repaired the smashed cup, setting it back on the counter and continuing to make the tea. She could feel eyes on her back, and listened intensely to the conversation occurring behind her.

'You alrigh', Lupin?' she heard Dung ask, his words slurred.

'Fine, Mundungus, thank you,' she heard Remus reply, his voice quiet and hoarse. 'Hiding from the Ministry?'

'It was jus' a very minor disagreement, tha's all,' Dung said cagily.

'Hmm, I'll bet,' Remus chuckled.

She heard Sirius' voice, 'Moony, not to sound like your mother, but you really shouldn't be out of bed...normally you're dead to the world after the transformation...'

'As I said, Padfoot, the Wolfsbane seemed to have been beneficial to my body more than my mind. No doubt I will get some sleep later, but I am fine for the moment.'

Tonks took the four mugs of tea to the table, one at a time, trying to maintain awareness of her feet. She set Remus' in front of him, and he finally looked at her, his eyes locking straight into hers, all traces of his earlier shortness replaced with his usual warmth and compassion.

It reduced all of the anger and fear inside her to a mere flicker of a memory. She smiled widely at him, which he returned, only just.

Remus was looking at the floor again, his mug held firmly between his hands.

Tonks sat down, reeling from Remus' indifference towards her, and took a sip of the soothing, hot tea. She realised that she would have to leave for work in a matter of hours, and thought of the daunting pile of paperwork which awaited her, and the pitiful amount of sleep which she had to run on.

She watched worriedly as Remus leaned forwards to place his mug on the table, giving a wince as the movement put pressure on the wound in his back. A wave of panic washed through her; he was obviously displeased at her presence, but would that ruin their friendship? Surely he would forgive her sooner or later?

'I should go,' Tonks blurted suddenly, abruptly rising from her chair, wanting nothing more than to escape the whole, embarrassing situation. 'I need to stop off at home before work...and...I really need to go now. Erm...I'll see you tonight...at the meeting, yeah?'

'I'll walk you to the door,' Remus said quietly, heaving himself up from his chair.

'The hallway isn't infested with dark creatures that will jump out from behind the curtain and get me, Remus,' Tonks smirked. 'I'll be fine.'

'Nevertheless, Nymphadora,' Remus teased back, 'you're barely awake. I would hate for you to collapse in fatigue en route to the front door.'

'Hmm, that would be bloody awful,' she agreed.

'I'm glad that you see why an escort is necessary,' he smirked. 'After you, Nymphadora.'

'It's Tonks, Remus.'

She said hasty goodbyes to Sirius, who was pointedly looking in a different direction in blatant disgust, and Dung, who was frantically searching the room for the lost, tiny golden gnome.

Once in the dingy hall, Remus gently guided her by the shoulders, turning her to face him.

'Tonks,' he told her seriously. 'It was a bad idea for you to come this morning.'

Tonks sighed, meeting his eyes. 'I only did it because I was worried about you. I've told you before. And besides...it was my fault that you got that wound in the first place. If it had reopened Remus...I...I don't know what I'd have done.'

'It's not your responsibility to worry about me, Nymphadora,' he told her sincerely, his eyes burning into hers.

'That doesn't stop me feeling responsible for what happened,' she shot back.

'I can take care of myself, Tonks,' Remus said. 'Just as you can.'

'I had to go home yesterday and wash your blood from my clothes, Remus!' she exclaimed, throwing her hand in the air. 'How do you think that made me feel?'

He looked at her strangely, frowning slightly, his eyes searching hers for something unknown. His hands were still firmly stationed on her shoulders, and Tonks began to feel the warmth of his palms seep through her robes. She resisted the urge to shiver, and the urge to lean closer to him, seeking out more of that soothing warmth which he offered. Even now, when he was being sincere with her, she couldn't help but find him to be the least threatening person she knew. It was indisputable that he held a great deal of comfort within his warm eyes and gentle smile, despite the woes which plagued him and caused the disheartened droop in his shoulders.

'We must all make sacrifices in war, Nymphadora,' he told her, so quietly she almost couldn't hear him. 'And we must be prepared to make them. The more we cling onto things, and try to covet them and control what happens to them...the less control we have over ourselves.'

'So that's your advice on how to survive war?' Tonks asked blankly. 'Simply cut yourself off from everyone so that you can't feel pain when you lose someone?'

'I feel pain,' he corrected quietly. 'I've made the very mistake I'm warning you against now. It's something which I wish to protect you from, Tonks.'

'See!' she hissed, glaring up at him through the gloom. 'You're allowed to feel protective over my feelings, but I'm not allowed to worry about you? What the hell kind of logic is that, Remus?'

'It's my logic,' he told her calmly. 'It's the logic which makes the most sense, and you know it.'

'Like hell 'I know it'!' her voice was rising now; she could feel it. 'I'm not going to fight this war without friends, just so that I don't have to grieve!'

'I'm not asking you to go without friends,' he replied, his own voice beginning to show the slightest hints of anger. 'I'm simply warning you against placing too much worry on my health, considering the delicate nature of it.'

Tonks felt deflated. 'So you don't want to be friends?' she asked blankly, vaguely reminded of her first few years at Hogwarts, trying desperately to find a niche in the school where she felt that she belonged.

'This isn't about being friends, Nymphadora,' he told her. Her heart constricted, and she found it difficult to draw breath, waves of panic washing through her. Had he guesses that she felt something towards him? Was he about to tell her off; bat her feelings away?

He continued, 'this is simply about devoting too much of your time and energy to worrying about an old werewolf.'

'Well, I do worry,' she stated defiantly, holding her chin high. 'So it's too late now.'

'No,' he told her firmly. 'No, no, no. It's not too late. You _must_ try and let go of this, Nymphadora.'

Tonks wasn't even sure what they were talking about anymore. 'It's not that easy.'

'My life is too precarious for you to rely on,' he almost whispered.

'I'm dangerous too, you know,' she breathed, not daring to blink as his eyes searched hers. 'My job's the most dangerous that's on offer, really...I'm not wrapped in cotton wool by any means.'

'Is it so wrong of me to want to keep some light in your life, Nymphadora?' he asked, pleading. If they weren't stood so close to each other, it would have been difficult to make out the conversation. 'Please...the path which you're starting down....no good will come of it.'

'What path?' she breathed, her eyes challenging him. 'What are you so afraid of Remus? You still haven't told me.'

It that moment, he looked so old. She suddenly became aware of how he seemed to be struggling to keep himself upright, and the dark shadows and bruises marring his angular face. His body had given itself over to the wolf a matter of hours ago, and yet he was still fighting and refusing to give in to her. Tonks couldn't believe that they were having this conversation, vague as it may be. Perhaps the full moon had made him more accessible; less guarded? Perhaps if she had attempted to have this conversation with him any other time of the month, he would have been utterly unyielding?

'I'm afraid,' he whispered truthfully, 'of you becoming like me.'

She looked at him blankly, and he continued; 'I'm afraid of you becoming _old_, Nymphadora.'

'You're _not_ old, Remus,' she protested gently, not wanting to break the tense bubble of quiet wrapped around them. 'After all that you've been through...most people would have given up. But you haven't. You kept going, and you've never stopped looking for the good in people. I almost _envy_ your optimism, Remus.'

'Trust me,' he told her, looking deflated. 'My optimism is even less reliable than my health.'

'But you _are_ reliable, Remus,' Tonks insisted. 'War hasn't done to you what it does to other people. You haven't gone insane, or joined the enemy out of fear, or just given up entirely. I look at you and see a reason _not_ to give up...'

Tonks knew that she was saying too much, but it was almost impossible to stop. The words were flowing through her mouth rebelliously, defying all of her better judgements.

Well, she reasoned, if she was going for this, she may as well go for it with conviction.

Tonks reached up for his hand, which was now dangling loosely against his side. She hunted for his fingers, and laced her own around them, soothed by the feel of his warm, rough skin. His fingers were long and slim, and slightly calloused. The traced the line of his knuckles with her thumb, reaching round and gently drawing circles over his slightly smoother palm, which seemed impossibly warm. She became extremely conscious of how cold and clammy her own small hands must feel to him, but brushed the insecurity aside quickly, and closed her hand around his firmly. Remus' hand hadn't yet moved; not even a fraction of an inch, and she felt her heart sink.

Her heart leapt, however, when Remus smiled gently and reached his other hand up to her hair, gently brushing a strand from her forehead. 'Has anyone ever told you that your hair goes red when you're angered?' he smirked.

'No...' she left out the fact that her red hair was in fact triggered by the clenching of her stomach and the weakening of her knees.

'There are so many colours in you,' Remus whispered, drawing his hand away from her hair. She caught it in her free hand, mirroring the movements of her other.

He wasn't fighting her grip, but neither was he struggling to free himself. His shoulders were still tense, and his eyes still guarded. Her hands felt so warm when she clutched his, as though his rough skin were a safe haven for her softer, colder fingers.

Was he still protesting? What had they even been talking about for the past few minutes? Surely it couldn't be this simple?

The warmth of his hands weren't enough anymore; Tonks craved the security of his arms. How would he react if she moved herself a little closer, relinquished his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist?

'You don't have to be afraid, Remus.'

'Oh, I really do,' he whispered, his eyes full of pain and longing.

Tonks shook her head gently and took a tiny step towards him, his hands still firmly gripped in hers. She could feel the warmth radiating from his chest, level with her face, and resisted the urge to rest her head on it. Instead, she tilted her face up towards him. Remus was looking downwards, his musky breath shifting the hair around her head. They were mere inches from each other, and he hadn't yet pushed her away. He hadn't moved at all.

He blinked once, slowly, and as she moved to bring her face that little bit closer to his, he moved. His face tilted back up – his stubbly chin brushing her forehead –suddenly out of reach entirely.

'I'm sorry,' he said, barely loud enough for her to perceive. 'You should go...you'll be late for work.'

Tonks released his hands as though they had burned her, and couldn't meet his eye. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and nodded tightly, shifting around him so she could reach the door.

'I think it best if you don't visit on full moons, Tonks,' Remus told her. 'It's not safe.'

A swell of anger bubbled in Tonks, but she pushed it away. She didn't acknowledge his request, knowing that she would come next month, and the month after.

As she opened the door and stepped into the soft dawn light, her knees softened. She willed herself to keep moving, to shake some sense into herself and fight the urge to sit down and catch her breath.

Tonks made her way down the steps of Grimmauld Place, a new day breaking around her.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**I hope that you enjoyed the latest installment!**

**Please review and brighten my day ;)**


	6. To Read Your Mind

**Sorry this chapter took a little longer than usual! Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Five: To Read Your Mind

Tonks had a love-hate relationship with her desk.

On the one hand, the surface of it loomed over her, towering so precariously with papers that she was almost certain it would be the death of her one day. One the other hand, however, it felt like a trusty friend that had been with her through thick and thin. Tonks sat at her desk almost every day, and no matter what life – and her boss – threw at her, it was always there to lean on.

'Bugger!'

A memo had fluttered frantically onto the top of one of her piles of paperwork, flapping its wings tidily and settling on top of the mountain, threatening to bring the entire pile down. Tonks steadied it with a quick hand, breathing a sigh of relief. Over the divider, she saw the small brown eyes of George Knightly peering disapprovingly at her through half-moon spectacles, bushy white hair framing his face, obviously affronted by her loud cursing.

'Sorry, Knightly. These blasted memos are out to get me,' she smiled apologetically, giving her threatened pile of paper a small, fond pat. Knightly turned his eyes back down towards his work with a small, irate shake of his head.

Knightly had been there since she had started; he was the oldest Auror in the entire office. His face bore heavy scars, one dragging the corner of his mouth down, creating an ugly grimace. She wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't retired; he didn't seem to even move from his desk and strangely, despite many failed attempts to start conversations with the man, she had never heard him speak a word. His desk was tidy too...arranged into neat little piles while he poured over maps and criminals' photographs. Tonks was certain that he hadn't been sent on a job outside the office for god-knows how many years.

Sighing, she reached for the memo that had seated itself comfortably on her desk and unfolded it quickly, smoothing out the paper to reveal the message within. Kingsley's small, neat script wrote:

_Tonks, _

_Meeting tonight; DO NOT BE LATE._

_The Professor is coming to try and shed some light onto your recent attack._

_And watch out for the Boss, he suspects something's going on with you._

_K._

The _Professor_, she knew, had to refer to Dumbledore, but Kingsley knew better than to send memos around the Ministry which the Professor's name on. Knowing Fudge, the memos were probably charmed to fly straight into the Minister's hands at the slightest mention of Dumbledore's name. She looked over at Kingsley, who was in deep conversation with a Senior Auror a few cubicles away from her. He gave no recognition of Tonks, continuing his conversation with his usual enthusiasm, his low, calming voice drifting over to bustle of the office.

Tonks felt her stomach tighten at the prospect of going to Grimmauld Place; it would mean seeing Remus Lupin. The post-transformation Remus Lupin from whom she had fled earlier this morning in a dizzied, confused state. It has taken her the majority of the morning to calm her fluttering stomach, and she was constantly distracted from the pile of reports which commanded her attention. The feel of his warm skin in her hands lingered, coming back to her in absorbing flashbacks. Would he be at the meeting tonight? Would he feel too ill to attend? Would he acknowledge what had happened earlier this morning, or would he simply deny that it happened and sink back into the shroud of his quiet disposition?

Tonks had spend most of the slow morning trying to convince herself that the Remus she had spoke with this morning, was in fact, a true reflection of his inner feelings. But the more she thought about it, the more likely it became that he was simply weakened by the full moon; more susceptible to getting into serious conversation, and more likely to accept the offer of warmth and comfort. If she was honest, she couldn't imagine him being in a similar, open state when the moon wasn't full. This made her heart sink slightly; did Remus crave _her_ comfort, or simply the warmth and compassion of another human being to make him feel more like a man and less like a wolf?

The big issue was that Tonks found it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about him. Flashing images, supplied by her brain, would taunt her throughout the day; Remus sitting quietly, gazing into the fire with an intensity that belied his mild exterior; or Remus fixing her with that gentle, teasing look which never failed to send her heart into overdrive. And small details became more and more apparently, like the broad, sloping planes of his back which she could see beneath his robes, or the way the firelight illuminated the sandy strands left in his hair and ignored the grey...

She felt like slapping herself; this kind of obsessive behaviour was simply not acceptable, especially when she had a horrific amount of work to drag herself through.

Perhaps the key was to think about something completely unsexy?

Anything non-Remus related...

Mad-Eye in a short dress or Mad-Eye kissing Dolores Umbridge...

'Ergh!' she felt the small cry of disgust escape her lips before she could stop it.

Knightly was giving her that look again. She arranged her face into innocent surprise and pretended to be looking at a report.

''Two dark wizards were caught on the run...'' she pretended to read aloud from the paper in front of her in explanation, ''both were found with various severed body parts in their possession'...bloody disgusting isn't it?'

Knightly remained silent, still looking at her in bemusement over his glasses. When he lowered his eyes back to his own report, Tonks breathed a sigh of relief.

It was midday, and people were grabbing their things and heading out to lunch. Tonks felt no desire to eat with her stomach in the twisting state that it was in, and pulled her papers closer with a reluctant sigh.

'Tonks!' It was a sound that she knew well; the disapproving, sharp tones of her boss, Rufus Scrimgeour.

She tried to arrange her face into something innocent and curious before turning around in her chair and looking over her shoulder at the man behind her. Scrimgeour was leaning around the door to his office, his face set in stony suspension. The large wooden door was captioned with '_Head of Auror's Office_', which shone in glinting gold against the dark polished wood it was mounted on. Tonks could feel the remaining Auror's in the office turn to look at her.

'Sir?' she asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

'A word, please?' he raised his wild eyebrows and gestured into the office.

Dread settled in the pit of her stomach as Tonks rose from her chair, crossing the office to follow her boss into the room beyond. Before she entered, she glanced at Kingsley, who was looking pointedly away from her, his brow furrowed in obvious worry.

The office seemed small due to the amount of clutter that had been crammed into it. The walls were lined with heavy looking, dusty coated books, and the fireplace set into the far wall cast a warm, stifling glow. Scrimgeour squeezed himself behind his desk and sat down, resting his folded hands on the desk before him. Tonks felt uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze and clasped her hands behind her back, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

She decided to break the silence. 'Is something wrong, Sir?'

Scrimgeour raised his unkempt eyebrows. 'Wrong, Tonks? Absolutely not!'

'Well...that's good...' she said warily, eyeing her boss uncomfortably.

He leaned forwards on his elbows slightly, fixing her with an intent stare. 'Yes, it is,' he smiled slightly. 'Your entire performance this past year has been excellent, Tonks. I knew from the moment that you decided to train up that you would be an invaluable member to my Auror Team.'

Tonks gaped, suspicious. 'I...thank you, Sir.'

That's when she felt it; that tiny nudge at the edge of her mind, seeking entrance, latching onto the emotions that were surging through her mind. She took a deep breath, pushing Scrimgeour's attempts at legilimency aside, clouding her emotions over as best as she could. Tonks pulled her eyes from his gaze, and felt the grip he had on her mind slip. He let out a small, exasperated sigh.

'Forgive me,' he smiled, his kind expression tinged with something Tonks didn't like one bit. 'I was merely...curious. Such a young and talented Auror; one is naturally curious about how new recruits see the world. They can sometimes be prone to susceptibility...do you consider yourself to be susceptible, Tonks?'

'No, I don't, Sir.' Tonks refused to meet his eyes, positive that another onslaught of legilimency would be imminent. Surely he hadn't seen anything of value?

'It is something which we must consider, Tonks; where our loyalties lie,' Scrimgeour continued, ignoring her. 'As I am sure you are aware, there has become a considerable divide in the Wizarding World of late. On one hand, we have the Ministry of Magic...on the other; we have...other...less reliable forces.'

'Dumbledore, Sir?' Tonks asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

'Indeed, Tonks,' Scrimgeour nodded, trying to recapture the contact of her eyes. 'The man who taught us at school...'

'The man who we trusted with our lives, Sir?' Tonks offered her voice casual.

'If you like,' Scrimgeour sounded reluctant. 'But remember Tonks that we must no longer regard him as a friend and trusted member of our society. We must see him as the threat which he not presents. Most have accepted this. Others...have not.'

Tonks waited, trying to keep her face neutral and her mouth shut.

'But of course, you consider yourself to be on our team, don't you, Tonks?'

Tonks bit down so hard on her tongue that she felt herself wince. 'Of course, Sir. The Ministry is where my loyalties lie.'

'But?' he prompted.

'But...' she paused, weighing her words carefully. 'Surely, if someone were to believe what Dumbledore is trying to tell us, then there would in fact be a divide into three, not two?'

'Elaborate, please,' Scrimgeour told her, nodding.

'Well, we would have the Ministry and its supporters, Dumbledore and his supporters, and the new dark threat which Dumbledore claims to have come to light recently. Isn't that right, Sir?'

'There has always been a dark threat, Tonks,' Scrimgeour told her, his teeth clenched, 'a threat which pays your salary; one which we have been dealing with for decades. There is nothing new. We will not let the claims of a senile old Professor influence our lives and send us into disarray. Do you understand?'

Tonks said nothing, but nodded tensely, her arms folded over her chest.

'There are many people who are greatly influenced by Dumbledore. They will not accept his insanity easily. We may have an uprising on our hands. There are no blurred lines, Tonks. Either you work for us or you work for them. It's something which you must be certain of if you wish to retain your position in this office.'

Tonks grimaced and nodded, eager to get out of the room, safe from Scrimgeour's penetrating gaze.

'I bring you here Tonks,' he continued, much to her disappointment, 'because I believe that deep down you know where your loyalties lie.'

'I do, Sir,' she said lightly, no intention of elaborating.

'I thought so,' he smiled widely, evidently satisfied by her lie. 'I came here to give you your newest assignment, Tonks; to follow, observe and record the doing of three individuals who are believed to be affiliated with Dumbledore's recent operations. You will spend 3 hours a day locating and observing each suspect.'

Tonks smiled inwardly. If he put her on the case of Order Members, it would give her a new opportunity to manipulate any intelligence the Ministry may have stumbled upon. She could give them false leads, in a similar manner to how Kingsley planted false seeds in the Sirius case. Tonks nodded in understanding of her assignment, her palms sweating slightly.

Scrimgeour pulled a roll of parchment towards him. 'Your first suspect is Emmeline Vance. We know that she has been closely affiliated with Dumbledore in the past. Since her son's death she was house-bound most of the time. She has been seen lurking around a certain haunt in Muggle London. Keep a close eye on her; she's a more formidable witch than one might imagine.'

Tonks nodded, her insides jumping at the mention of 'a certain haunt in Muggle London'. If they had picked up a scent around Grimmauld Place, had they seen her around there also? Was this all a test?

'The second suspect is Mundungus Fletcher. He's a known offender and has evaded Ministry apprehension on many occasions. We do not wish you to bring him in; simply survey and record. We need these suspects to go about their day to day business. Watch out for any signs which could link him to Dumbledore. In his case it's a little more unlikely; he's most likely a simple petty thief, but you can never be too careful when it comes to Dumbledore.'

Once again, Tonks nodded silently, and waited for the third suspect.

'And finally, we come to our most....prominent threat. We want you to locate and closely survey the Werewolf; Remus Lupin...'

It came before she could stop it, rushing through her carefully constructed barriers like water through her fingers. For a split second, she met Scrimgeour's eyes, completely by accident, her entire body reacting to the sound of Remus' name. His legilimency worked quickly, drawing the emotions from her quickly, extracting them and sifting through them thoroughly. Tonks gasped, flashes of Remus' face filling her vision as Scrimgeour took them from her, seeing them for himself. _Remus glancing at her with teasing eyes, Remus' arms around her_. She felt a nudge in the corner of her mind where she kept her secrets about the Order of Phoenix and closed the doors around it, holding them shut with so much strength that her legs almost buckled. Scrimgeour struggled to open the doors, but she refused to let him.

It was too late anyway; he knew about Remus. She managed to pull her eyes from her Boss' and break the connection, gasping and clutching her head. Tonks gaped; she could get him sacked if she went to the Prophet with a story like this. To use legilimency forcedly was forbidden.

Scrimgeour stood, his face set in a grim line, his palms splayed on the desk. All pretence of his civility had vanished.

'You can't do that!' she insisted. 'How dare you?'

'Tonks,' he said levelly. 'You're hiding something. I understand that you're young, and that the urge to rebel is strong, but you must consider which side you are on; the right one or the wrong one.'

'I'm not hiding anything,' Tonks insisted, holding her head high. 'I have the right to my own mind, and you have no right to my private thoughts.'

'It was necessary, it would seem,' Scrimgeour told her unwaveringly. 'How are you affiliated with Remus Lupin?'

'I...he's an old friend of the family,' Tonks lied quickly. 'We met up recently. I don't see how it's any of your business, to be quite frank Sir.'

'Whatever your connection is to the werewolf, it is to cease, Tonks. You're an Auror, and your assignment still stands. You're to gather information on these three suspects. And if I receive even the slightest of hints that you're not doing your job with satisfactory objectivity, you will be out of this office faster than you can blink, do you understand?'

Tonks clenched her jaw and said, 'Yes, Sir. I understand. Anything else?'

Scrimgeour took on a pleasant, airy quality, pulling his notes towards him and peering at them. 'No, no, that will be all. You may leave.'

Tonks nodded and hastened to exit the stifling office. When she re-entered the hustle and bustle of the main office, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, astounded by what had just occurred. She felt numb; Scrimgeour had forced his way into her mind and took her thoughts and feelings without any hint of permission. And worse, it had been her thoughts about Remus. She leant heavily against the wall, attracting curious glances.

_Keep it together_, she told herself, and with a deep breath heaved herself from the wall and crossed the office to her cubicle.

'Tonks?'

She recognised the soothingly low voice of Kingsley and tried not to let her impassive expression drop.

He led her to the corner of the office, glancing at the people wandering from cubicles. When safely out of eavesdropping distance of anyone, he turned around to face her, his expression worried and curious. 'What happened?'

'Nothing,' Tonks muttered, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her robes. 'He gave me a new assignment, tried to put the fear of God into me; the usual.'

'You look a little...' Kingsley searched for the word. 'Paler than usual.'

Tonks scrunched up her nose and focused on restoring her usual complexion, and asked, 'better?'

Kingsley smiled fondly. 'A little. Honestly, Tonks, what happened in there?'

Tonks sighed in defeat, feeling drained. 'He used legilimency. It's alright though; he didn't see anything...important,' she told him.

'Without permission?' Kingsley frowned. 'You could destroy him with a story like that, Tonks.'

'I think it's probably best if I don't draw attention to myself, don't you?' Tonks sighed. 'It's not exactly going to help the Order by waving a big scandal around and putting my name on it. Fudge would be all over me like a rash, sending people out to keep an eye on me.'

'You're right. Good call, Tonks,' Kingsley told her with a warm smile. 'Now, what's this new assignment?'

As she told him, his eyes lit up. The new opportunities came to them one by one, presenting new ways of leading the Ministry away from the Order's scent. Tonks felt warmth suffuse through her, cutting through the exhaustion which Scrimgeour seemed to have left there. Kingsley spoke to her in hushed but enthusiastic tones, and for the first time in a since she had joined the Order, she felt as though she had made a breakthrough.

* * *

'Sorry, I'm late! I was – arghh!'

All eyes turned to her as her heel caught on the bottom stair, sending her crashing to the floor. The familiar stone tiles of Grimmauld Place's kitchen greeted her, grazing her hands as they sprung forward to try and break her fall. It wasn't the fall that was the main source of her insides squirming, however; it was what seemed to be the entire Order of the Phoenix looking at her, some turning in their seats to get a better view.

'Nymphadora Tonks,' she heard the familiar drawl which just made the situation exponentially worse. 'You always did have a certain talent for making an excruciatingly embarrassing entrance. Please, don't rush to find your seat; it's only the future of the entire Wizarding World that we are discussing. Perhaps something too trivial to motivate you to be on time?'

Severus Snape was peering down at her from his standing position at the head of the table. Anger bubbled in the pit of Tonks' stomach and she pulled herself back to her feet, trying to retain as much dignity as possible.

'Well, Snape,' she said through gritted teeth. 'If I'm honest, I was intimidated by your excellent people skills and general charisma. I was worried that you'd show us all up.'

She couldn't see anyone; just the anger that was slowly turning her vision red.

'Have a seat, Nymphadora,' Snape told her with a smirk. 'You ought not to embarrass yourself by interrupting with further idiocy.'

Tonks bit her tongue, her face flaming, and walked over to the empty seat next to Sirius. All eyes were on her, peering in various states of disbelief, amusement and disapproval. She avoided everyone's gaze, with the exception of Sirius, who was looking at her in thorough amusement, his arms folded over his chest, his chair tilted back.

'Nice comeback,' Sirius approved. 'Bad timing, though.'

Tonks ignored him and scanned the room, searching for one particular face. 'Where's Remus?'

'Bad reaction to the Wolfsbane; came completely unexpected. He's sleeping it off.' Sirius explained quietly as Snape resumed speaking.

'A reaction?' Tonks whispered, panicked. 'But he seemed fine this morning...'

Sirius said nothing, turning back to listen to Snape. Tonks shifted nervously in her chair and listened also.

'The situation at Hogwarts is stable. Umbridge continues to exercise power over the trivial aspects of the school, but is no closer to stumbling across any vital intelligence. In the meantime, the Dark Lord continues to make progress in his endeavours to recruit new Death Eaters. It would seem that the latest attack on Lupin was a form of initiation of Kendrick Honeysuckle back into the Dark Lord's followers. However, since this attack ultimately failed, he was killed by the Dark Lord...'

'Honeysuckle's dead?' Tonks gaped, speaking once again in hushed tones to Sirius. He frowned and nodded slightly, uncharacteristically focused on Snape's report.

The rest of the meeting passed as usual, with reports from members and discussions that seemed to drag on for longer and longer as time went on. Tonks found herself glancing frequently at the clock, eager for the meeting to end. When it was her turn to speak, she quickly recounted her earlier encounter with Scrimgeour, and informed them of her new mission. She missed out the part about the legilimency, and Remus. Emmeline looked alarmed when she was named as one of the suspects. Mundungus didn't seem to notice that anyone had spoken, let alone that his name was mentioned as he snored heavily, slumped in his chair.

Finally, the meeting came to a close. As usual, Tonks lingered in her seat. Chairs scraped as members got up and slowly filed from the kitchen. Snape flooed quickly; back to Hogwarts, she assumed. Molly had begun to potter around the kitchen counters, putting pots and pans away with exasperated sighs and tuts. Sirius seemed unconcerned.

'So how's my dear, pink-haired cousin this fine day?' he asked with a wink.

'Knackered, actually,' Tonks sighed, resting her head in her arms on the table. 'Scrimgeour tried using legilimency on me earlier. It took it out of me trying to keep him out.'

'I'm impressed,' Sirius told her, with a proud smirk. 'He's a tough old bastard. Did he see anything?'

Tonks groaned. 'He saw that I knew Remus,' she confided.

'Ah,' Sirius smirked, letting his chair drop forward with a resounding thud.

Tonks buried her blushing face in her arms once again, closing her eyes with a yawn. She thought of her extremely early start this morning, and of everything that had happened; Remus standing so close; Scrimgeour forcing his way into her mind; Snape sneering at her in front of the entire Order. It seemed strange that all had happened in the past twenty-four hours. She listened to the soothing sounds of Molly tidying up after Sirius, and the rustle of Arthur's paper as he waited for his wife to finish.

'I'll just pop to the loo before I go, I think,' Tonks announced.

'Thanks for the update,' Sirius said dryly.

Tonks had no intention of going to the toilet. She knew where she would head once she ascended the stairs to the first floor of Grimmauld Place.

She found herself at the only closed door on the entire floor; the door which Remus Lupin was sleeping behind.

The hallway was dark, the floor coated in dust. Tonks paused as she went to knock the closed wooden door, unwilling to break the silence that cocooned her and her thoughts. Would Remus be angry at her for waking him? How would be react after what had occurred this morning? Would he simply deny that anything had happened?

Tonks swallowed her fear and knocked the sound reverberating.

She waited a moment, listening for any sign of movement in his room, before knocking again.

It wasn't long before she heard a small, pained groan, and the sound of rustling sheets and protesting bed-springs. She was suddenly worried that he was in too bad a state to even move from the bed. However, her worries were soon put to rest as the sound of footsteps echoed, and the door opened a crack.

Half of Remus' face peered through the gap, blinking heavy sleep from his face, struggling to focus on her face. He winced, and asked croakily, 'Nymphadora?'

'Remus! Hi,' she said lightly. He winced again at the sound of her chipper, loud voice. 'Sirius said you had a bad reaction to the Wolfsbane after I left; are you alright?'

'I...I feel a little better, thank you,' he told her, leaning his forehead heavily against the door. 'It was just a little sickness as my body rid itself of the potion. With rest I'll be fine.'

'Good, good,' she enthused, feeling awkward standing outside his door. 'Can I come in?'

Remus frowned, his face showing signs of pain. 'What?'

'Can I...come in?' she repeated, unsure. 'I feel stupid talking to you through a door.'

'Erm, yes, I suppose so,' Remus replied, pausing for a moment. 'One minute, let me just...'

Remus disappeared for a short while, and Tonks heard the rustle of fabric. When he opened the door to let her in, he was doing up the bottom few buttons of his shirt. She smiled at him through the gloom, and saw him flick his wand gently. The lanterns in the room lit into a soft glow, illuminating them both, and the surroundings.

His room was tidy, just as she would have guessed. Books were arranged neatly on shelves, lining the walls. The curtains were drawn, blocking the moonlight from filtering in. The only untidy part of the room was the bed, which was rumpled heavily, the sheets wrinkled and hanging half-off the thin mattress.

'Sorry if I woke you,' she mumbled, embarrassed.

'It's fine,' he told her hoarsely, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed. His eyes were still shadowed with purple rings, and his skin looked a little greyer than usual, as did his hair. 'I have been asleep most of the day. How was your day?'

Tonks perched heavily of the arm of a green velvet armchair which sat in the corner of his bedroom. 'Rough,' she sighed. 'Scrimgeour gave me a new assignment.'

'Oh?'

'Say hello to your new stalker Remus!' she smiled.

'Excuse me?' he asked, wincing once again as her voice reached an uncomfortable volume.

Tonks laughed, 'I've been assigned to follow and record the actions of you, Emmeline and Mundungus,' she explained.

'Ah, I see,' Remus smiled. 'You will, I hope, do my thrilling life justice?'

'Of course,' Tonks promised with a wicked grin. 'Everyone in the office will know you as Remus Lupin; gambling, womanizing, dark wizard catching, talented musician, werewolf extraordinaire!'

Remus chuckled, rubbing a hand over his cheek, which was rough and shadowed with several days of stubble. He looked up into her face and frowned slightly.

'Are you alright, Nymphadora, you look a little...'

'Paler than usual?' she offered, remembering Kingsley's earlier words.

Remus smiled, and said 'Perhaps,' he reasoned, his eyes teasing, just how she liked. 'I was going to say tired, but I'm hardly one to judge.'

'We're all tired,' she agreed. 'The past few weeks have been intense.'

'I agree,' Remus nodded. 'The Order certainly doesn't leave much time for recuperation. I'm impressed at how well you've coped.'

Tonks blushed, 'Not all that well, really. I can't even make it to meetings on time.'

Remus smirked. 'I wouldn't worry; everyone respects you highly as an Auror and a valuable member of the Order.'

Tonks smiled in genuine thanks and hesitated. She wanted to tell him everything; about Scrimgeour and how he had invaded her mind, and about the worries that plagued her. How she doubted her own abilities to pull off this new assignment, keeping the secret of the Order hidden from the Ministry, despite Scrimgeour's inevitable close surveillance of her.

'Scrimgeour used legilimency,' she blurted. 'He forced his way into my mind. I...I couldn't stop him; he saw that I knew you. He's suspicious. I could have ruined this whole organisation.'

Remus looked at her thoughtfully. 'But you didn't. You kept the Order a secret; and that is more important than protecting me. You did admirably, Tonks. Rufus Scrimgeour is a formidable wizard.'

Tonks nodded reluctantly. The force of the day was weighing heavily upon her, threatening to force tears up through her eyes. She blinked furiously and shifted on the arm of the chair, playing absent-mindedly with a loose thread in the velvet.

'Remus...' she began, and hesitated. 'What did we talk about this morning?'

Remus' head shot up, his eyes wide and almost panicked. 'I...' he cleared his throat. 'I don't know. I wasn't in my right mind. I was out of character, and I'm sorry. My behaviour was inexcusable.'

Tonks' heart sank; he had only been acting out of exhaustion and desperation because of the transformation. The tears seemed even more irresistible, luring her into misery heavily.

'I need to go,' Tonks told him, standing, avoiding his eye. She was eager to leave. 'I should let you get some more sleep. I'm sorry I disturbed you.'

'You...you don't need to leave on my account,' Remus told her, sounding confused.

'I need to catch up on some sleep too,' she explained to the floor. 'See you, Remus.'

'Goodbye,' he stammered, obviously bewildered.

Without a backwards glance, Tonks exited, taking a deep, calming breath. The urge to cry subsided, replaced with a deep exhaustion that settled in her bones.

Remus saw her as a nothing more than a colleague? This morning had meant nothing to him? It had been as she had suspected; her feelings were unrequited.

She paused on the bottom stair, sitting down heavily, letting the darkness of the hallway wash over her. Today had been the beginning of hope and the end, leaving her cold and unsettled, and the worries which plagued her seemed larger than ever.

_To Be Continued_

* * *

**There we have it; another chapter! Please review and make me smile :)**


	7. Swallowing Furniture

I know it's been a while and I'm sorry! Please enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Six: Swallowing Furniture

'Concentrate, lass!'

Tonks gasped as Mad-Eye doubled his attack on her mind, peeling through the outer layers and reaching the very deepest recesses of her consciousness. She was reminded of her Auror training, where a daily bout of legilimency had always been on the cards, with a ruthless Moody trying to induce the ever elusive, 'intrinsic' ability that was occlumency. Tonks tried to concentrate; to clear her mind of everything that Mad-Eye was attempting to force to the surface. Memories from her childhood; feelings that she had buried for various boys during her years at Hogwarts; the contentment that she had always felt at home; the frustration towards her overbearing mother, and the love.

'Take it easy, Mad-Eye, she looks like she's about to turn into my mother.'

She heard Sirius' amused voice through the haze of her memories, and immediately resented his presence. Was everyone here to witness the extremely embarrassing spectacle that was her occlumency skills? Frustration bubbled to the surface of her mind; she was supposed to be good at this. Her job for the Order depended on it.

Moody released her mind with an angry growl. 'You've let yourself get out of the habit of using occlumency!' he told her angrily, striding across the room, pacing, his wooden leg clattering on the dusty floor. 'Too many young Aurors forget the skill because they don't need to use it very often. You should practice all the time, girl. Even when no one's trying to use legilimency.'

'Well, it doesn't help,' Tonks gritted her teeth tightly, 'that you're doing the equivalent of trying to pry my skull open with a crowbar.'

They were in an old drawing room on the second floor of Grimmauld Place. The past week had been devoted to trying to help Tonks prepare for her newest job for the Order; to act as though she were following the movements of several Order members, while throwing the Ministry off the Order's scent at the same time. Sirius had plonked himself happily in a dusty armchair to survey the occlumency practice which Moody had insisted she needed. Remus was leaning heavily against one of the bookshelves, his gaze intent on Mad-Eye, but otherwise neutral. He hadn't spoken a word, and had simply watched. To be truthful, his presence had made Tonks a little self conscious about her out of practice skills.

'You have to perfect your occlumency skills, Tonks,' Moody continued. 'Scrimgeour is going to be looking for any way in, and you need to be constantly vigilant about his attempts to extract information. One slip up, and you could bring the entire Order down. Is that what you want?'

'Yes,' Tonks ranted sarcastically. 'Yes, Mad-Eye, that's _exactly_ what I want. I want to be crap at occlumency and ruin Dumbledore's hard work, send the Ministry into disarray and ruin my career. Oh, and you know what else I _want_? I want you forcing my mind open every evening of the week with force that no one else is capable of, that's completely impossible to fight against, no matter how strong my occlumency is. Yes, that's my idea of a _perfect day_.'

'Don't be insolent,' Moody growled, louder than she had ever heard. 'I'm helping you. You need practice.'

'Well, I'm taking a break,' Tonks snarled, and plonked herself decisively in a creaky armchair, without any pretence of waiting for permission.

She had equated her bad mood to the lack of sleep that she had been catching recently, and the approaching cold virus that she could feel scratching restlessly at the back of her throat. Truth be told, she was more than a little upset by Remus' recent withdrawal from her. It had been a week and a half since she had entered his room and opened her big mouth. She had made him feel uncomfortable; of that she was certain, but she had hoped that, being Remus, he would continue their friendship and partnership as usual in order to spare her further embarrassment and upset.

He had not continued as she had predicted, but has instead retreated back to the gentle but cool and impassive man that she had known when she had first joined the Order. He did not make any moves to seek her out during meetings, and on the rare occasion that he ended up sitting near her during the Meetings, his eyes did not stray to hers as they used to. Clearly, he was displeased by her obviously scary lurches into friendship and her blind ramblings about developing a closer relationship.

As a result of his recent impassivity, his sudden presence at her occlumency practice with Mad-Eye – which the old man had insisted on her attending every night of the week since she had been given her new assignment from Scrimgeour, despite already possessing decent occlumency skills – had surprised her. He had not spoken; had merely settled himself against the library wall and watched with a slight frown on his face. Sirius often sat with her, much to her annoyance, and watched Moody repeatedly break into her mind with the same engrossed expression that her father used to wear when he watched the Muggle Television.

Tonks brought herself back to the present. Mad-Eye was muttering angrily under his breath and taking small swigs from his hip-flask, shaking his silver hair back from his face while he paced the room. Tonks ignored him, aware that her expression would put a sulking child to shame.

'Alastor...'

Tonks had become so used to his silence that she jumped slightly as she heard Remus' quiet voice break the uneasy silence in the room. She even thought that it sounded a little more hoarse than usual, perhaps from disuse? No, she was thinking too much...

'What?' Mad-Eye snarled, whipping around in his agitated state to fix Remus with one of his trademark stares. Tonks had frequently been on the receiving end, and as a result was immune to the expression which would have grown men running for their mothers. She rolled her eyes.

Remus seemed as unaffected as she felt. 'Tonks has had quite enough practice for one night, don't you think? It won't do any good to wear her mind out before she even gets started. Be reasonable.'

Tonks' heart lurched heavily at his gentle defence. She hadn't needed it exactly; she could deal with Moody on her own, but it was the fact that he cared enough to stick up for her that weakened her knees and made her face burn.

'M'alright,' she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed and not wanting to seem weak.

Mad-Eye had begun to bristle with pure fury, his grizzled face pulsing with blood underneath his skin. He took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself slightly. Perhaps, Tonks though with a casual grin, in case anyone was trying to use legilimency on him.

Oh, this was too good an opportunity to miss. 'Careful, Mad-Eye,' she said, without really being aware of speaking the words. 'Don't want to wear your emotions, do you? Makes you susceptible to legilimency, you know.'

A growl erupted from Mad-Eye's throat and he turned to her. 'Fine, lass,' he all but shouted. 'If you're too arrogant and lazy to practice then I'll be leaving, shall I? I expect a full report on how your meeting with Scrimgeour goes. And good luck; heaven knows you'll need it.'

And with that uncharacteristic outburst hanging in the air, he limped from the room, his wooden leg clunking heavily on the polished wood flooring.

Tonks looked after him, gaping; shame washing over her in waves that stained her face red and travelled up the roots of her hair until she was certain that had gone red too. She looked away, trying to maintain the pretence of anger to avoid Sirius and Remus seeing the hot embarrassment welling at the back of her eyes.

'Well, that was entertaining,' Sirius yawned, and Tonks heard him rise from his own creaky armchair and stretch. 'I better go and make sure Molly hasn't changed my kitchen into something from Domestic Witch Weekly.'

She heard him leave the room and half expected Remus to follow, but she heard no evidence of him doing so. With her head turned away, she couldn't see where exactly he was. He must be still leaning against the wall, his expression mild as ever. The tears of shame were beginning to sting the back of her eyes, more insistent than ever. She could suddenly see, with awful clarity, just how childish she was being. Mad-Eye was only trying to help her; the Order relied on her not to mess this up and her occlumency was well below par.

It was cold in the room; no fire had been lit, and the sun had lowered and tucked itself behind the horizon, casting the room with a grey ambience. It matched her mood and did nothing to dispel the gloom. Remus hadn't yet moved, as far as she could tell, and she sniffed, trying to break through the barrier of her blocked nose. She needed her bed.

Another long, awkward spell of pure silence followed and Tonks became too agitated and simply had to break it. 'I know; he's only trying to help,' she admitted scornfully, inviting Remus to begin whatever he had been waiting to say.

'Yes, he is,' Remus agreed, offering no more.

It was so bloody maddening that she turned her head, conjuring up her best challenging stare in an attempt to coax more words from him.

'And you think I'm being childish?' she offered, her face hard.

It occurred to her to morph her face into something slightly more severe and difficult to challenge, but found that her resolve weakened when she met his eyes.

His features were shadowed in the almost darkness of the drawing room, making the hollows of his cheeks stand out and the lines around his mouth seem endless in depth. His lips were pursed in something that could have been disapproval, making the contours of his face somehow more handsome. She couldn't see his eyes exactly, in the poor light, but the faint light of the ever growing moon glinted off them, which shone out from the shadows of his face as vividly as she tried to make her hair. A growth of stubble had been left to grow slightly longer than he usually left it. Perhaps he was stressed? Tired? Ill?

Remus shifted slightly, pushing himself away from his leaning position and letting his long arms unfold. He was clad in a large, slightly threadbare grey jumper, which hung from his thin frame heavily. Tonks empathised with his choice of clothing and picked at the large, lurid green jumped that she had bundled on under her work-robes that morning, overcome by the coldest day since autumn had begun.

'No,' he sighed, rubbing a palm across his face. 'I don't think you're being childish.'

Tonks looked down at the slightly scratchy wool of her jumper and pulled her legs up onto the chair, the frame protesting with a violent screech that broke the quiet of the room. The jumper was long enough to tuck over her knees, which were becoming cold through the long rips in her jeans. She couldn't remember if she had bought them in that state, or if the rips were a result of one of her clumsy falls.

'Alastor can be a difficult man to understand,' he offered gently, his voice so low it almost became a part of the night. 'He is trying to help you, but I fear that his endeavours may be a little...misguided.'

That ensnared a beast within her chest. 'What? So you think I'm a lost cause? Hopeless and incapable of listening and being taught? Do I have to remind you that I've already been through all of this for Auror training and that I passed? People seem to forget that I know what I'm doing. But of course, I'm not a valid Order member, because I trip over my own feet and embarrass myself. We can't all be cool and composed all of the time, you know. We're not all Remus Lupin.'

The moment she had finished, and drawn a huge breath, she realised that once again, she had been host to the child within her.

'No, you're not Remus Lupin; something which I remain eternally relieved about,' he replied shortly, but still somehow gently. How did he do that? Perhaps it was the husky lilt of his voice or the way that his voice never seemed to venture above a certain volume.

Tonks didn't have a clue as to how to respond, so settled for a short, disbelieving snort that sounded rude when it came out. She heard the soft sounds of Remus' shoes as he made his way to her chair. She averted her eyes, her face beginning to flame violently. She heard his knees crack as he crouched down in front of her, and could feel his eyes on her face. She was certain that he must be able to hear her heart, with the way that it was pounding in contrast to the all but silent room.

'I'm glad you're Nymphadora Tonks, for what it's worth,' he all but whispered.

Tonks let her breath free from its surroundings, unable to meet his eyes, suddenly very aware of how un-ladylike her curled up position on the chair must look, and how the jumper that she had tucked over her knees had a stain from her lunch.

Perhaps this was some kind of apology for being so cold with her recently? His way of gently reintroducing the friendship that they had previously enjoyed? Had this been why he had watched her practice with Moody so avidly? To make amends?

'I'm glad you're Remus too, Remus,' she smiled slightly, the first genuine smile all day. She heard his slight, low chuckle.

'I'm glad we're both glad that we're both who we are,' he jested in response, and Tonks finally had the courage to look up into his face, both of her sweaty hands clutching her knees tightly.

His eyes held the gentleness that she had missed so during their days of professional detachment. He looked a little tired, perhaps, but it could have been the way the light – or lack of it – played on the shadows beneath his eyes.

She was about to say _I'm sorry_, but he interrupted her. 'Perhaps I can help you with occlumency?'

Tonks raised her eyebrows in surprise and asked 'What?'

'Alastor may be a little ruthless. Scrimgeour wouldn't dare to use such a strong, obvious force against you. Would you like me to try?'

Tonks hesitated, aware of the barrage of feelings that he could encounter if she let her defences down. But equally, she didn't want him to think that her occlumency was lacking. If she could close her feelings down to Remus, then she could surely manage to ward off Scrimgeour's attacks?

'Alright,' Tonks agreed, sitting up slightly straighter. 'Hit me with your worst, Lupin.'

He looked amused. She met his eyes intently as a prompt for him to begin. His lips pressed together slightly more tightly and the small line between his eyebrows deepened.

And she felt it; the small little nudge at the centre of her mind, trying to grasp at passing thoughts. Tonks breathed deeply, in and out as she had been taught and thought of nothing but static noise; the kind that her old broken wireless used to make until she had kicked it into silence. She could feel him grapple a little harder inside her mind and worked intently to keep it blank and unthinking. She even managed to keep the swooping feeling from soaring through her lower stomach at the sight of Remus' eyes trained so intently on hers.

His presence in her mind felt so different in comparison to anyone else's. It was soft and gentle; tempting. In a way, it was more deadly in that it leads you into a false sense of comfort and warmth.

'Auror Tonks,' Remus said, a smile playing on his lips, his voice imitating Scrimgeour's. 'Are you trying to deceive the almighty Ministry of Magic?'

Tonks fought the burst of laughter which erupted from her throat and replied. 'No, sir, I'm not. I am a devoted member of your Auror squad and would never think to deceive someone as devilishly handsome as the Minister for Magic.'

'Handsome, you say? As handsome as the Head of the Auror department; I, Rufus Scrimgeour?' Remus asked with a mock-affronted look on his face.

'Oh, no, sir,' Tonks replied, keeping the blankness in her mind as Remus rooted around for lies. 'You surpass all men in terms of handsomeness, sir. In fact, I may need to have you right here in your office.'

Remus broke eye contact as he looked down, with almost a shy grin. The connection severed and Tonks let out a relieved breath. He looked back up at her, meeting her eyes this time without the invasion of her mind. 'Good,' he told her gently, with a kind smile. 'Good job, Tonks. I think you'll be just fine during your meeting with Scrimgeour.'

'Hope so,' Tonks agreed, wiping her sweaty palms discreetly against her jumper.

'I have faith in you,' Remus told her firmly.

'Thanks,' she replied, and was shocked by the timidity of her own voice.

'And,' he continued and she held her breath and waited. 'I apologise...for being so unfriendly the past few days. It was undeserved...I'm sorry, Tonks.'

The tears sprang back to her eyes, this time of happiness and relief. Unable to resist amidst her newfound happiness, Tonks gave a relieved cry of 'oh, Remus!' and flung her arms around him. In hindsight, she would have lowered her legs from her squashed position in the chair. Her knees connected with the hard plane of his chest and he let out a little _ooff_ of surprise but didn't move from her embrace. The only way, Tonks decided, to avoid a clumsy parting and a muttered apology would be to hold onto him as though the awkward positioning of her legs were something she intended. So, she did just that, folding her hands into the surprisingly soft wool of his jumper and burying her chin and mouth in his hard shoulder. She could feel the soft vibrations of him chuckling slightly and hoped that he didn't find her utterly ridiculous.

But then she felt some of the tension in him ease and shivered slightly as one of his long fingered hands cupped the back of her neck, his thumb playing across a small, soft tuft on the top of her head where her hair had been forming a rebellion all day.

And then, quite suddenly, urgency seemed to be instilled within him. He tensed up once more and pulled her, for the first time, closer of his own accord. His arms – both of them – wrapped tightly around her back and for a moment, it scared her. Was he, calm and collected Remus Lupin – scared? He gently urged her legs down into a more sensible position so that he could kneel between them and cradle her more fully against his chest. Such embrace must be a rarity to him, she concluded, and he tightened his arms so far that she could feel the thumping of his heart against her chest.

Tonks gently tapped him on the shoulder, staring at his ear as though it held the secret to all of his mysterious problems. 'Remus? You alright?'

He nodded and made to release her, but she held onto him with all the strength in her arms and legs.

'Tonks,' he began. 'It seems you have me in quite the choke hold...'

'Auror training,' she explained. 'Page twenty three in the Auror's handbook.'

'In the chapter concerning hugs?'

'Mad-Eye's idea,' she agreed seriously. 'He looked at the book and thought to himself; there should be a chapter on how to hug in a way that simultaneously immobilises the hug-receiver.'

'Ah,' he chuckled, and gently prised her away from him. 'Well you seem to be perfectly capable of the skill. But I am afraid that my blood is rather demanding its right to flow through my shoulders.'

'Sorry,' she sighed, and released her hold on him.

'No bother,' he laughed gently and fixed her with a gentle gaze.

In some slushy romance novel this would be the point where Tonks would lean forwards; their lips would meet, followed by declarations of undying affection and a scandalous lack of clothes. She knew from the moment that she had first read one of her mother's romantic paperbacks in her early teen years that she would never quite be able to pull of the spontaneous acts of affection and would never quite perfect the art of lunging in for a kiss from a distance without bumping noses. And besides, she was perfectly content to just have him back, in all his Remus-y spirit. He wasn't angry at her and, in true gentlemanly fashion; he had taken responsibility for their awkward patch. Her shoulders felt relaxed for the first time in a good while, and she couldn't help grinning ear to ear.

Remus cupped the side of her face fondly, his palm rough and warm against her cheek. For a moment of pure wishful thinking, she imagined that he was about to kiss her, but his smile wasn't quite intimate enough for that and his eyes were firmly rooted into her own, rather than flitting down to her mouth.

'Remus?'

Had something happened to make him seem so abruptly needy of her?

'Are you sure you're alright?'

His mouth tightened a little in disapproval and he moved his hand away from her face, leaving her skin cool and lonely where it had previously been warm. 'I'm fine, Nymphadora.'

The resolute use of her first name stung a little, but she knew better than to keep challenging him, especially when he was being so unguarded for a change. Molly's words of wisdom crept up on her, about how the tensions of war instilled a fear in people that made them instinctively home in on love and affection. What had Remus done in the previous war, when he had been younger? Had there been someone for him to love? A friend? A lover? Girlfriend? He could have been married and widowed for all she knew about his past, but something in the way that he was told her that he wasn't one to open to love easily, which made her dubious about any apparent affection he may show towards herself.

Secretly, Tonks had hoped that a simple 'are you alright' would trigger some barrage of emotions which would come spilling out of his mouth like wandfire, and answer all of her questions. It could never be that easy.

The room had grown darker around them, happening so gradually that it had crept up of them soundlessly and without realisation that they were not sitting in a nearly pitch black room. Remus took out his wand and hastily cast a fire in the fireplace, lighting a few of the lamps in turn. The warm glow wasn't too much, but still made her eyes sting slightly. It brought her back to herself too, and she was suddenly more aware of the stain on her jumper and the state of her jet-black hair, which seemed to have darkened with the withdrawal of the sun.

With a small crack coming from somewhere around his knees, he stood and took a seat, not too far away from her, but still far enough away to made her stomach drop with disappointment.

'I'm afraid my knees aren't what they used to be,' he smiled, and she detected a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Or did he simply have the overwhelming desire to get away from her?

'Are you going to tell me why you were in such a bad mood with Alastor?' he enquired casually, in a tone that she could imagine him using in the classroom; _would you care to tell me why you have a flobberworm living inside your pocket? Are you going to tell me why you're chewing gum in my class? Are you going to tell me why you didn't come to detention yesterday?_

Tonks sighed dramatically and pulled her knees up again, slightly hindered by the tightness of her outdated jeans. 'Mad-Eye expects me to be superwoman,' she explained.

'Who?' Remus enquired lightly.

Tonks giggled. 'Doesn't matter. He expects too much of me; I can't possibly have any flaws because I'm his student and Mad-Eye's students don't fail.'

'Flaws don't necessarily implicate failure,' Remus reminded her, leaning forwards, elbows resting on his knees.

And so they talked, mostly about her, despite her questions regarding him. He answered barely any of them; only offering, as always, the briefest insight into what his life was really like underneath the gentle eyes and hollowed out bone structure. He seemed to her like an endless night, stretching on and on so deep and wide that she began to give up any hope of making it through to morning, where she might glimpse something of value about his life. There was an irresistible sincerity in him, however. Despite his tendency towards being a private man, she knew that the kindness and gentility was no charade, and was the only true reflection of the man who had put up so many barriers it was impossible to see deeper.

Tonks eyes began to droop. It was extremely late; she could sense it. But it was a Sunday the next day and, thank god, she wasn't expected in the office until Monday, with a full report on what she had 'found' about Remus, Emmeline and Dung.

Talking with him soothed her soul into a state where she felt utterly content, relaxed and accepted.

'Remus?' she asked, suddenly feeling bold. 'How did your parents react when you were first bitten?'

Remus looked hesitant, but answered. Perhaps he felt as though his childhood was sufficiently long ago to talk about. 'They were extremely frightened, of course, but very brave nonetheless. They accepted the task I presented as a simple twist of fate; meant to be and something that would shape me into the man I would become. My father used to make jokes about my lycanthropy. Some would have thought them cruel and teasing but...it was perfectly fine and just what I needed. I needed to feel human. And they let me.'

Tonks didn't know when exactly she fell asleep, but she remembered her last thoughts of the night, imagining what an infant Remus would look like in his first ever Hogwarts robes, carrying his newly purchased spell books and a dark secret.

* * *

'Professor Lupin?'

Remus, her potions master, who was floating on what seemed to be nothing more than air, looked up from his desk. He had spectacles similar to Dumbledore. Odd; Remus didn't wear glasses, did he? And she had been away from Hogwarts for years. No, was that just for the summer? Wasn't she in her third year?

'Yes, Nymphadora?'

And then, quite suddenly, her robes had disappeared, leaving her sitting in only the lacy underwear that her Jenny Marble had bought her for her eighteenth birthday. Tonks shrieked and tried to cover herself up, only succeeding in attracting more attention from her fellow peers. She cringed amidst excitable whispers; _I told you she fancied him_ and _she made her robes disappear in class? How desperate is she? She's far too young for him to notice; it wouldn't be right!_

And then, quite suddenly, the room was empty, and she was perched on the edge of his desk, his glasses gone, his hair rumpled and his eyes dark. She was clad in a shorter version of her Auror's uniform; was she an Auror? But she was at Hogwarts wasn't she?

Oh, who cared? Remus was pushing the hem of her robes up and crushing her lips against his and –

Tonks?

'Tonks?'

'Oi! Tonks?'

'Arghh!' Tonks felt the words leave her mouth, dry and confused. The voice rousing her belonged to Sirius. What was Sirius doing in her flat? Had something bad happened? Had someone died?

And then her neck screamed with tension and she opened her eyes blearily to find herself bathed in the cool morning light of the drawing room in Grimmauld Place. She was curled up at an awkward angle in the creaky armchair that she had fell asleep in and her head had been lolling to the side for the entire night, by the feel of it. Sirius was looking extremely smug, leaning against the doorframe. She could see him from a strange angle which made it seem as though the whole room had tilted slightly on its axis.

'Whatever you're going to say; it's too early,' she croaked at her cousin, squinting.

'You look comfortable,' Sirius snorted. 'He could have at least been a charming gentleman and carried you to a spare room. Still, at least he made a bit of an effort.'

Tonks looked down at herself and noticed that her feet were not squashed up under her legs but were in fact propped up on an ancient looking footstool. And, touchingly, Remus seemed to have draped a thick blanket over her. It smelt like male aftershave and soap and she wondered fleetingly, blushing, if it was from Remus' bed. There was no sign of Remus, she realised, and supposed that he must have gone to his own room in the house to sleep, after tucking her in.

'What time is it?' Tonks asked, her head thumping. 'And what are you doing here? Bugger off.'

'I think you'll find, dear cousin, that this is my house. And it's eight in the morning. Do you really want to go back to sleep in that chair? I'm pretty sure it's charmed to eat sleeping maidens. My mother wouldn't want anyone to sleep in her house; you were awake and hating muggleborns or you were swallowed by furniture.'

Tonks snorted and sat up more fully, her back creaking slightly. She groaned.

Sirius laughed. 'Come on; Remus is cooking breakfast. You'll need some food before you go on patrol.'

Tonks stifled the urge to groan in annoyance; she had forgotten that she was on duty guarding the Department of Mysteries with Remus. It wasn't strictly a job that needed two people, but Tonks had insisted they work as a team simply to alleviate the boredom that came with the tedious task. Once in a while, someone would venture down there, sometimes by accident, sometimes simply staring vaguely at the entrance door. Tonks had acquainted herself with the faces of all of the workers in the Department of Mysteries as they entered and left. They were always vague, mysterious people who she saw roaming around the Ministry sometimes looking deep in thought with wild hair as though they had more profound things to think about in the mornings than combing their hair.

She followed Sirius down the two flights of stairs and into the kitchen, where the smell of bacon washed over her like home. She had never thought of Remus as a man who would be able to cook, but he looked thoroughly content standing by the stove, a fresh white shirt on, bacon crackling in the pan in front of him. He looked up as she came in and smiled, looking amused. She self-consciously patted down her bed hair and tried to morph away the morning-pallor of her skin.

'Good morning, Tonks. Tea?'

'Hmm, would be lovely, thanks Remus.'

She wanted to thank him for covering her up last night and propping her feet up and caring for her, but didn't dare in front of Sirius, who already seemed to be fizzing with the possibility of teasing them both.

'So,' Sirius said as soon as they were all sat down, a bacon sandwich in front of each of them. 'You two didn't put my mother's drawing room to ill use last night, did you?'

Tonks choked on the bacon and flushed deeply. 'No, git.'

'That's a shame,' he grinned boyishly.

They finished breakfast with a calm, relaxed air, the heat draining from Tonks face as she realised that most of her worries from the past few days were gone, and that she and Remus were once again on the familiar yet precarious footing that she had so missed. And, to her delight, she would get to spend the entire afternoon with him guarding the Department of Mysteries under the invisibility cloak, side by side like they used to sit and watch Harry when the summer was still hot and Remus was a virtual stranger to her.

And suddenly it didn't matter that it was a cold morning or that Tonks' neck felt as though it had been cursed to inflict as much pain upon her as possible. The sun was shining outside and the possibility that maybe, just maybe Remus cared for her filled her up like she was a schoolgirl again. And she let herself feel foolish and young and light, powerless to resist.

_To be continued..._

* * *

Please Review!


	8. A Meeting of Chance

Oh gosh, I know it's been ages. I'm sorry! Did you miss me? ;)

My Remus muse disappeared, so I lost motivation but don't fear I think I'm fully back into the story now and raring to go.

I hope you enjoy this new chapter, and I'm sorry for the wait (if anyone's still waiting at all).

* * *

Chapter Seven: A Meeting of Chance

In theory, she shouldn't be enjoying the situation that they had found themselves in. Quite the opposite, in fact. Lucius Malfoy was stalking ever-closer down the long black corridor, his eyes penetrating every inch of the walls and floor, searching for something. Perhaps he was looking for them, tucked away under the invisibility cloak, holding their breath, waiting to attack if he should make a move towards the plain black door at the end of the corridor.

Yes, this certainly was an awful situation, Tonks decided. And, of course, she would have been feeling all of the usual feelings that came with it (anger, fear, anticipation) were it not for one crucial, confounding factor.

Remus Lupin had her against the wall.

And she was finding it _extremely_ difficult to concentrate.

She shifted slightly against his chest, and felt the expansion of his breathing against her back. The arm around her middle tightening slightly, drawing her impossibly tighter against him as Malfoy approached further. They were pressed into the wall, invisible and trying to make themselves as small as possible.

Malfoy was mere inches away, and Tonks held her breath, pushing back into Remus further, trying to make sure that the invisibility cloak hadn't slipped. If they were found down here, hiding under Dumbledore's invisibility cloak, it would be the end of her career as an Auror, and Remus would almost certainly be sent to Azkaban. It was taboo for a werewolf to even enter the Ministry, let alone sneak around by the Department of Mysteries.

Malfoy's glittering grey eyes fixed on them and narrowed, obviously seeing nothing but thin air. Could he hear them breathing? Moving? Remus' chin came to rest on her shoulder, and she felt him shift behind her, taking them slightly to the left, just in time to carefully dodge Malfoy's outstretched, searching claw of a hand. She felt her own hand shake and reached for her wand, jostling the fabric of her robes. Remus seized her fingers and held them still. She couldn't feel him breathing anymore, and tried to be similarly as stealthy. She glanced down at the arm he had around her middle and breathed a sigh of relief that his own wand was clutched in his fingers; they were not completely defenceless.

With one last, sweeping, venomous glance down the corridor, Malfoy turned on his heel and stalked down towards the lift.

Remus voiced an idea as if reading her mind. "Quick. We'll follow him."

They stepped in awkward tandem to the lift just in time to see the doors close. Tonks leaned back to glance at Remus over her shoulder. "Now what?"

"Now we wait for the lift. I'm almost certain that he's gone to see Fudge."

Tonks nodded in agreement and sighed deeply, shifting against his back, suddenly too warm. "Remus, as much as I support the concept of share and share alike, I'm bloody boiling." She did a quick check up and down the corridor and then ducked from underneath the cloak, sighing in relief as the cooler air hit her.

She could practically hear Remus' disapproval coming from under the cloak, and she shot an apologetic look towards the empty space where he stood.

"Tonks," he began tersely. "If someone comes down in the lift..."

"Then I'll make up an excuse. Come on Remus, we've been under that bloody thing for three hours."

Luckily, when the lift reached them and opened, it was empty. Tonks felt the lightest touch of the cloak as Remus stepped up to her and, with an invisible hand at the small of her back, led her inside.

Soon the lift was clattering upwards to Fudge's office. "Come back under the cloak."

Oh, it was tempting. "No, I'll distract Fudge and you can slip inside the office. Have a little faith, Remus; I know exactly how to play it."

"I see. What exactly do you plan on saying?" Remus' voice sounded extremely sceptical.

"Don't worry, it'll come to me. I've had years of practice from sneaking in late when I was a kid. I'm the master of the excuse." Tonks enthused, frowning when Remus made a small, disapproving noise.

"And once I'm inside the office?" he asked quietly as the lift shuddered to a halt on the desired floor.

"I'll meet you in the Atrium when you get out. Hopefully I won't run into Scrimgeour."

With one last, disapproving sigh, she felt Remus slip out of the lift, heading for the door at the end of the corridor, its polished oak home to the gleaming title of 'Cornelius Fudge: Minister for Magic's office' and underneath in slightly smaller, shabbier writing 'official matters only'. Tonks took a deep breath as the approached, preparing herself to knock, giving Remus enough time to slip inside.

She was spared the task however, as muffled voices grew louder, and the door was flung open, leaving her face to face with a bemused Fudge and – instead of Lucius Malfoy – her boss, Rufus Scrimgeour.

"Tonks?" Scrimgeour's face turned an angry pink, and he peered through his glasses, his eyes confused and livid. "_What _are you doing here?"

"I –uh..." Tonks gaped, her mind turning momentarily blank. "I was...uh...looking for you, sir. It's urgent. I, uh, have...information about the...the mission you gave me? I thought you might like to know immediately."

Nice one, Tonks. Now she was going to have to fabricate something worthy of disturbing an important meeting in the space of a few seconds. Scrimgeour's face softened a little in surprise, and he glanced at Fudge, who was staring at the doorframe, expressionless. "I see," Scrimgeour said shortly, muttering a quick goodbye and thank you to Fudge, he dragged her down along the corridor, his hand vice-like around her wrist.

"Auror Tonks," he hissed through his teeth. "You interrupted an extremely important meeting between me and the Minister for Magic, do you understand? What can possibly be so urgent? What have you found?"

Tonks hesitated as he dragged her into the lift, unsure of Remus' whereabouts. Unwelcome, the first thing that came to mind sprung from her lips; "Remus Lupin has left the country, Sir."

Scrimgeour's eyes met hers and she faltered, her face flaring guiltily. Keep your mind blank, she told herself, and focused on the unthinking, quiet hollow around which all of her busy thoughts were flying. Scrimgeour seemed content that she was telling them truth. "I see. Well that complicates matters. Do you know where he has gone? Have you observed any suspicious behaviour on his part?"

"No, I don't know. And no, sir. None at all," Tonks replied firmly.

Her boss pursed his lips as the lift clattered upwards, presumably towards the Auror Office. "Hm. That is quite a shame. I would have appreciated cause to...well...remove the threat of someone that close to Dumbledore. A blemish on the wizarding world. I don't condone how dark creatures are permitted to live such normal lives." Cold, calculating eyes held hers. "We must put innocent lives before half lives, Auror Tonks."

Tonks felt the bile rise in her throat; how dare he speak that way about Remus? Remus was twice the wizard he was. She opened her mouth to voice these thoughts, but a gentle hand on her shoulder halted her. She turned and saw nothing but air.

Remus was in the lift with them. Under the cloak, hearing what they were saying about him. She closed her eyes.

"Auror Tonks?"

"No, sir, I'm afraid I don't agree. A life is a life. You can't put a value on anyone."

"So you would prefer for dangerous creatures such as werewolves to roam in the open. To be amongst vulnerable children and unsuspecting, innocent people? To walk into Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley as though they contribute anything to society apart from terror?"

"Yes. And to buy homes and get proper jobs, and marry and have children and..."

Once again, she was halted, this time by a firm squeeze to her shoulder. She understood; shut up, Tonks...

Scrimgeour smirked, and the lift door opened. He paused for a moment, before saying, "You would feel differently on the matter, had you walked into a cottage following a werewolf attack and seen the remains of an entire family torn to pieces in their own beds, soaked in blood."

Remus withdrew his hand from her shoulder, but not before she felt a small twitch in his long fingers. Together – Remus under cover of the cloak – they exited the lift and followed Scrimgeour through the practically empty Auror Office; it was lunchtime. Tonks felt a wave of panic; would Scrimgeour want her entire report? She hadn't yet fabricated the exact details of what she would tell him. "Sir, if you don't mind...I need to be going," she called, stopping in the middle of the office. He glanced back at her, and for a moment she saw suspicion in his eyes. "It's my day off, sir. I thought I should inform you that Remus Lupin is no longer in the country, and I have. Can I go now?" she finished lamely.

"If you wish. I expect your full report tomorrow." She nodded hastily and turned to leave. "And Tonks? The next time you interrupt an important meeting between myself and the Minister for Magic, you may find yourself without a job. The same applies for...how shall I put this...not being fully diligent with your job. Do I make myself clear?"

Tonks nodded once and quickly hurried out of the office, the warmth of Remus closely at her back.

* * *

"Oh bugger, I've failed as a witch. Dumbledore may as well kill me. I've brought the entire Order down and sent you to Azkaban."

Tonks' words were muffled into the dark oak of the table. She took a moment to note how dusty it was, and to send a mental glare towards Tom the Barman for making her life more difficult. "I may as well just sit here and decompose." She covered her head with her arms and turned it a morose shade of grey.

She heard Remus clear his throat gently, sitting across from her at their dark corner table in the Leaky Cauldron. She felt the small clink as he set his drink down vibrate through her nose, which was still pressed firmly against the table in a gesture of hopelessness. Tentatively, she lifted her head a little to peer at him through the murky light of the bar. "What?" she asked his smirking face miserably.

He let out a small puff of laughter. "You're overreacting, Tonks. You did fine."

"No I didn't. Don't try and make me feel better."

"Alright. You have doomed the entire wizarding world. The sky will fall and the sun will never rise again."

Tonks eyes widened. Remus seemed doubly amused. "Really, Nymphadora, it doesn't matter if the Ministry thinks I'm overseas. If anything it makes my life easier. Perhaps they won't actively seek to watch me anymore."

"It was my job to watch you, remember?" Tonks sniffed, taking a sip of her water.

"And you did a wonderful job," he smirked. A dose of embarrassment rushed around her face and she hurriedly morphed it away, hoping that he didn't see the subtle scrunch of her nose.

They were sat by the one, tiny, grimy window in the pub, and Tonks stared morosely out at Diagon Alley. People were beginning to wear thick cloaks again as the onslaught of a windy autumn assaulted them as they shopped. The clouds covered the afternoon sky in a blanket of grey, and everything seemed that bit less bright. A small boy rushed past, mother in tow, toy broomstick clutched tightly in his grip. Sometimes Tonks wished she were young again.

When she looked back at Remus, he was staring at her, a small frown marring his face. "Tell me about your parents," he requested politely.

Tonks was surprised. "My parents? Well, erm, there isn't much to know really. My dad's a muggle born, and my mum was a Black. She didn't like to talk about her family, really. Dad was always happy to have his own insular family too because his parents never really got used to the fact that he was a wizard. So it was just me, mum and dad."

"And they were good parents?" he continued, prompting her.

"Yeah, the best. Mum was a head case when it came to anything she didn't see as 'proper' but they were great," Tonks nodded. A wave of longing for her parents hit her; it had been so long since she had conjured up the time and effort to visit them. She would; soon.

"I remember them from school," Remus smiled, and Tonks felt her heart sink. Remus and her parents went to school together? "They were in their final year whilst I was in my first, so we were never friends, unfortunately. They were good people. In fact, your father was somewhat of an inspiration to Sirius, James and I."

"Really? Why was that?" Tonks asked, nonplussed.

Remus laughed, and Tonks felt a twinge deep in her stomach. "He inspired some of our later misbehaving. Ted Tonks was something of a legend."

Tonks gaped; her father? "Blimey. I knew I couldn't have got it from mum," she giggled.

He stared out of the window, seemingly lost in thought. Tonks watched the dull afternoon light play across the lines in his face. Sometimes he seemed so sad; so lost in his own mind that he forgot to put on a happy face. Tonks didn't blame him; today had been an example of how his kind were treated in the wizarding world. How could anyone think this man a monster?

A chair scraped harshly against the floor. "Goodness, Remus, cheep the hell up," rasped a deep voice.

Hovering over their table was a bald, heavily tanned man. His wide, dazzling smile seemed to hover of its own accord in the gloom of the pub, and in the dark skin of his face.

Remus' face broke into a deep, elated grin. "Jasper," he enthused, shaking the man's hand firmly, fondly. "How are you, my friend? Have a seat, please."

The man sat himself heavily on a chair, groaning slightly as though his bones were stiff. His robes seemed worn and beaten, and Tonks could now see deep scars running the length of his cheeks. They created valleys in which the light danced playfully. Jasper glanced at Tonks and then back at Remus, and asked playfully, "entertaining a lady, are we Remus?"

"Ah," Remus looked a little embarrassed. "Jasper Bard, this is my friend Nymphadora Tonks."

"Blimey," Jasper grinned at her, "that's quite a mouthful."

Tonks smiled in distaste for her name, instantly taking to the man. "Just Tonks, please."

"Probably for the best, yes?" Jasper winked and Tonks smiled warmly. "How do you know Remus then?"

Tonks faltered, "We...erm...through my parents."

Jasper snorted playfully, "Right, sure."

Remus changed the subject hastily, "So how are you, Jasper?"

"Not too bad, actually. Tom lets me stay here in a spare room upstairs for free if I agree to clean up at the end of the night. And I occasionally have to do his laundry. And once he made me fetch him a glass of water in the middle of the night. I tell you, that man can snore."

Tonks laughed; Jasper seemed strange, yet likeable. His voice would have indicated a well educated upbringing, but his appearance spoke of anything but.

"Incidentally, I've just finished a brew of Wolfsbane. Interested?"

Remus looked uneasy, and glanced briefly at Tonks. "I'm afraid I don't have the means to buy anything from you right now, Jasper."

"No, no, don't worry about it; I'll give it to you free of charge. You can make it up to me another month. You always were crap at potions, I know."

"Well," Remus gave a small, polite smile. "That's certainly generous of you. Thank you."

"No problem at all, after all you've done for me." Jasper turned to Tonks with wide, eager eyes and began to explain. "Remus was my closest and only friend when I first got bitten. He was brilliant; I've never met such an honest, friendly –"

"Jasper," Remus cut him off, a little sternly, and then softened. Tonks had caught mention of being bitten. So Jasper was a werewolf too. She had always imagined Remus to be the only werewolf in London, and upon consideration, it was a ridiculous idea. There must be dozens of them. "Thank you, but I really did nothing that anyone else wouldn't have done. I'm sure Tonks doesn't want her evening ruined by the quite frankly grim story of how we met."

"Actually, I'd love to hear how you met," Tonks contradicted, with a deep frown at Remus. She didn't appreciate being spoken for.

Jasper's eyes roved between her and Remus, before settling on the table. "Another time," he agreed, "Remus is right; it's not a light hearted story."

Jasper was soon called away by Tom, who needed help tidying up the mess that had followed a heated, drunken brawl between two wizards. Tom gave a hefty sigh and bade goodbye to them both, hurrying away to straighten up the mess of ale, broken wood and blood as Tom threw the drunken pair out of his bar with a grimace on his toothless mouth. Tonks watched Jasper work for a moment. He gave the impression of someone who had needed to become used to the hard life that had been forced upon him. If he had worn neat robes and had been freshly washed and shaven, he could have easily been mistaken for a wizard of great importance. This heightened her curiosity and Tonks set about once again to interrogate Remus as to how they met.

Remus, after some persuasion, gave in. "I found Jasper five years ago after a full moon. He says he can't remember how he was bitten; he simply woke up one morning in the snow and had the bite. It's possible that he had simply been taking a walk when he was attacked. I found him wandering around in the forest. At that time I had nowhere to go on full moons and had to try to find a forest far from any villages. Jasper didn't understand what had happened to him, nor the implications that came with it. I helped him adjust to his new life."

"That's a really great thing to do, Remus," Tonks assured sincerely, covering his large, warm hand with hers.

Remus smiled bitterly. "To this day I do not know if it was _I_ that bit Jasper and afflicted him with the condition that has plagued me for my entire life." He moved his hand from under hers.

Tonks swallowed heavily and said nothing, for she knew nothing could make him feel better.

They would be expected to attend an Order meeting in a matter of hours, and Tonks hoped they could waste the wait in the cosy, comforting pub. She enjoyed these moments, alone with Remus, and although she had a lot of love for Sirius, she was growing tired of his constant sarcastic remarks on her friendship with Remus.

After a moment, her hopes of staying in the Leaky Cauldron were dashed, when he asked, "Would you like to go for a walk? I'd like to pay Flourish and Blotts a visit."

After a hurried wave goodbye to Jasper, who was still working on sorting out the mess, they left the warm confines of the pub and stepped out into the blowy autumnal weather which howled restlessly down the alleys between shops and forced people indoors. Some of the September magic had gone from the street; no longer were there large, tempting and brightly coloured adverts in the windows, boasting good deals on Hogwarts robes and new broomsticks. With the absence of children, the street seemed hauntingly quiet.

Suddenly regretting not thinking to put on a cloak, Tonks shivered in her thin robes, and wrapped her arms around herself. Remus looked at her questioningly. "I didn't think I'd be spending much time outside," she explained.

He smiled gently and reached for the fastening of his own cloak. She realised only when he draped the warm shroud over her shoulders that it had been for her benefit, and tried to protest (weakly, in truth she was greatly enjoying the warmth instilled by the cloak and the gesture itself). Tonks blushed into the collar of his cloak, unused to such chivalry. The nearest she had gotten to such gentlemanly behaviour had been when her seventh year boyfriend, Simon Parch, had accidentally spilled pumpkin juice down her school robes and offered to pay for a new set.

She was unable to resist; what was the worst that could happen?

Tonks tried to keep the grin from her face as she casually hooked her hand into the warm crook of his elbow. He didn't pull away, and gave a brief smile downwards at her. She sighed, contented with the friendly silence as they walked slowly towards the bookshop.

A fierce wind curled around them harshly and Tonks -purely instinctively, of course – pressed her face into the safe curve of his shoulder.

As they neared the bookshop, the door opened and Tonks was brought face to face with...

"Mum?" Her jaw dropped a little as her mother emerged from the bookshop.

Her mother paused, looking extremely surprised, her light brown hair blown flat against her head. "Oh, Nymphadora," her mother smiled and hoisted the stack of newly purchased books higher under her arms.

The soft smile on her face soon vanished, however, as she noticed the man against whom she was firmly curled against. Her mother's dark eyes lingered on their touching arms and Tonks felt Remus shift, pulling away from her.

He cleared his throat and extended a hand. "Andromeda Tonks?" he asked politely. "I don't suppose you remember me. I'm Remus Lupin...a friend of Nymphadora's."

Andromeda shot an extremely hostile glance towards her daughter, and Tonks could practically hear what her mother was thinking; what on earth was she doing with this man?

"On the contrary," Andromeda corrected briskly, grasping Remus' hand very briefly. "I remember you quite well. From school and, of course, from the papers last year."

Tonks winced; she had expected nothing less from her mother than to undermine Remus – who she obviously was suspicious of after finding him so intimately entangled with her daughter – by making subtle implications about his age and lycanthropy. Her mother had always been defensive when it came to Tonks' relationships. If she didn't approve of someone, she would make it known in the most indirect yet cutting way possible.

Remus remained as polite as ever, but Tonks sensed his depleted enthusiasm at meeting her mother. "Ah, yes, of course. I'm afraid that neither source will give you the most pleasant opinion of me, so I'd urge you not to base your impression of me around the word of Rita Skeeter."

Tonks smirked at his response, and sensed an irate air bubbling around him. Her mother looked slightly taken aback by his defence, not entirely used to being answered back in a manner which would imply that she was shallow. Tonks knew that her mother, had she met Remus on the street, would not have been so uncivil to him. Any man with Tonks received the same treatment; even Kingsley on one occasion had been asked rather rudely by Andromeda whether or not his earring was practical in his dangerous line of work.

They all stepped out of the way of a small wizard who was struggling to move past them and into the bookshop. As they reassembled out of the way, Tonks' mother focused her eyes on Tonks appraisingly.

"Nymphadora, you look a little thin, are you eating properly? I knew that it was a bad idea to let you cook for yourself."

"Mum," Tonks protested through gritted teeth.

"Really, it would have been no bother to pop around a few times a week to drop off a decent meal for you. You don't have to be entirely separated from your father and me, you know. Anyone would think we were strangers with the amount you bother to visit us." Andromeda paused for a moment.

Tonks felt shame rush to her face. "Sorry, mum, it's just been so busy with work and...Well, with work."

Andromeda's eyes flickered to Remus for a split second. "Of course," and she looked, for a moment, extremely unhappy, and Tonks felt a renewed, stronger wave of shame colour her face.

How could she tell her mother that she wasn't trying to get away from her, but that most of her nights were occupied by secret Order meetings, patrol and night shifts at the ministry? In truth, she did miss her parents; her dad especially.

Andromeda gave the books once final hoist and with resolve said goodbye. "Do try to visit, Nymphadora. I know your dad misses you a lot," she tugged her daughter into a tight hug and Tonks felt tears well up at the back of her eyes, overcome by the scent and feel of irreplaceable safety that came with a mother's touch.

She gave Remus a brisk goodbye and Tonks a further kiss on the cheek, and disappeared up the street towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Remus cleared his throat and smiled gently down at her. She felt the lump in her throat fade with his warmth.

They browsed the warm bookshop eagerly, neither committing to any purchases. Though Tonks was not surprised, as a man that could not afford Wolfsbane potion for the horrific transformation which he must endure every month was hardly likely to spare any money for books. She found herself wishing, not for the first time, that Remus was less proud and more likely to accept money. She had no doubt that there would be many people eager to lend him the essential money, and she was most certainly one of them.

Half an hour passed easily, and Tonks found Remus deeply buried in the Defence against the Dark Arts section. She took a moment to examine him; the intense look of concentration which had developed a tiny little frown line between his eyebrows. His stance was firm and he seemed thoroughly at home around the books.

He noticed her presence and looked up, and for a moment, simply looked into her eyes. She was held, as if by an invisible thread, by his gaze. A small, quiet smile danced on his lips. She struggled to breathe, and the bookshop felt too warm for a moment.

And then it was over, and he was replacing the book on the self. "I wanted to take a look at the Defence books Harry's year has been assigned. Looks completely awful, to tell the truth. I do hope they're not learning entirely from this."

Tonks grinned and linked an arm through his, assuming their earlier position. "You could teach Umbridge a thing or two about teaching, I'm sure. I don't suppose that temper of Harry's is coping very well with the woman. She even riles Knightly, and that takes some doing."

"Knightly?" Remus enquired.

"Auror that sits opposite me; he never speaks and rarely smiles. Once his quill fell off his desk and he just stared at me until I picked it up for him."

"Ah, I see," Remus chuckled and they left the shop, stepping out once more into the autumn winds.

And then, quite suddenly, in a whirl of déjà vu, Tonks found herself against the wall.

This time, however, her back was against the cold bricks in the alley between Flourish and Blotts and Madam Malkin's. Remus was pinning her tightly against the bricks, and Tonks pushed aside the urge to pretend that all of her ridiculous fantasies were coming true, and asked what was going on. He shushed her quickly and glanced towards the opening of the alley, where a tall figure was skulking, peering this way and that. Here, in the shadows, wedged between Remus and the wall, she was out of view.

"He's looking for me," Remus breathed in her ear. "Scrimgeour is sending people out to make sure you were telling the truth about me leaving the country."

Remus grappled in his pocket and pulled out the invisibility cloak, glancing every now and then at the tall, brutal looking man in plain black robes. She felt the cool feel of the cloak being draped over her head, and Remus whispered hoarsely, "He mustn't see that you're with me. You'll lose your job and the Order will suffer greatly."

Tonks fiddled with the cloak, "Stop being bloody noble, Remus. Get under here too. Or he'll see you and know I was lying anyway."

Together they worked to see that Remus was completely covered. Unconsciously, Tonks felt her hands fist in the front of his robes, and pulled him flush against her. His arms quickly tightened around her middle. The man was peering suspiciously into the alley where they hid, his eyes roving around the darkness.

Tonks sighed and pressed her forehead into Remus' chest, closing her eyes and praying for the man to leave. It occurred to her that today had consisted of a lot of hiding under the cloak with Remus, trying to avoid the attention of skulking men. And she also found that she didn't object to this one bit.

With one last glance, the man stalked away.

Tonks and Remus did not move, and Tonks leaned up to laugh deliriously in his ear. "You're gonna have to stop pinning me against walls, Remus. A girl could get the wrong idea."

He chuckled and made no attempt to move, peering down at her with utter fondness in his eyes. "I'm sure your mother would disapprove very strongly."

"Pushed against a wall by Remus Lupin, the delinquent werewolf teacher? I'm sure she would," Tonks giggled into his neck.

She closed her eyes as she felt him press a kiss against her forehead, his chin prickling slightly at her brow, his lips soft and warm. Her heart thudded violently against her chest.

And then he pulled away, and she was exposed to the cold once again.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

* * *

"Tonks, dear, hand me that bottle would you? No, dear, the other one. There we go."

Tonks let the hot steam from the large pot of stew wash over her face. The heated air made her feel drowsy. They had returned from Diagon Alley a matter of minutes ago. Molly had insisted upon cooking dinner for them tonight, and so was once again a willing slave to the Grimmauld kitchen. Tonks had offered at once to help her, but seemed to be annoying the older witch more than anything.

"Molly, how did you and Arthur meet?" Tonks asked quietly.

Molly looked surprised by the question, but answered whole heartedly. "At school. He was quite the charmer, in fact," Molly giggled. "He asked me to Hogsmeade one weekend and of course I jumped at the chance. I was quite a catch in those days too."

Tonks smiled warmly at the witch. "You were the perfect couple?"

"No, dear, no couple's ever perfect. But I would say that we weren't bad as far as they go. Why do you ask?"

Tonks shook her head, "just curious," she said, surreptitiously glancing at Remus.

Molly frowned at her, giving her a quick once-over. "Tonks, dear. Isn't that cloak a little large for you?"

Tonks looked down at herself and found that she was still wrapped in Remus' borrowed cloak. She fiddled with the clasp. "Oh, erm," she muttered, "its Remus'."

Molly looked impressed. "Indeed?"

Tonks felt her face colouring; why couldn't Molly be as unobservant as her own mother?

Tonks hastily undid the cloak and draped it over the nearest chair, falling silent. She watched as Remus relaxed easily, laughing heartily with Sirius and Mundungus. He seemed happier; looser and less in control. Watching him now, it was easy to see how he would have been at school with Sirius and Harry's father; relaxed and easy, but still humble in a way which lent him an attractively quiet quality. She could see the flirt in him; the way he had teased her against the wall, and the way he held her gaze.

This was not a man who had been beaten down by an illness. Remus was a man who had surpassed all expectations and had fought against the ties that bound him until he had all the freedom he could. The easiness of his attitude cancelled out the usual feelings of fear that accompany lycanthropy, and Tonks could see now that no matter how hard people may try to be afraid of him, it was simply impossible. He brought warmth and acceptance into the lives of so many people, herself included. He showed empathy towards others of his kind, like Jasper Bard, and showed them kindness when the world showed him none.

In that moment, she realised that Remus Lupin had imprinted himself so indelibly upon her that she would never be rid of him. This was perfect, as she never wanted to be rid of him.

Not one tiny bit.

* * *

Please review!


	9. The Percival Effect

**New chapter, hope you enjoy. I'm loving all of the feedback; you guys are great! **

* * *

Chapter Eight: The Percival Effect

"_This is Madame Hilda bringing you the night-time relaxation hour, hoping that you're safely indoors and out of the rain tonight..."_

The wireless drifted around the peaceful kitchen crackling slightly with the age of the radio set. Sirius sat snoozing, his feet propped up against the edge of the table, his black hair falling like a curtain over half of his face. Remus, Molly and Arthur were all quiet, with Molly running an old wet rag over the dining table, her face disapproving at the amount of dirt and dust that had accumulated in Sirius' care. Every now and then, she would tighten her lips and throw a venomous glance at Sirius' sleeping face.

Tonks sighed and glanced at Remus. By some miracle, he had found an earlier edition of the book with which Harry and the kids would be studying Defence against the Dark Arts within the Grimmauld Place Library, and was currently engrossed. He read with a slight crease between his eyebrows, his eyes never deviating from their rhythm, back and forth across the page. Something in his face told her that Remus didn't like what read. And why should he? Tonks had glanced at the book earlier (_Defensive Magical Theory_) and quite frankly it was bloody awful; all technicalities and no input regarding the emotion behind even the most basic defensive spell.

"_...it looks as though this storm is showing no signs of letting up tonight so keep inside and warm..."_

The rain had begun at around midday, and had spiralled quickly into the worst storm Tonks had seen in years. Even from the basement of Grimmauld Place, the beating drum of the rain hitting the roof was still audible. The wet hair and robes which she had acquired on her way over had dried and stiffened a little, now uncomfortably damp and smelling strongly of rain. The claps of thunder broke through in rolling waves and Tonks shuddered, grateful for the safety of the underground kitchen.

There had been a fair few people absent from tonight's meeting due to the storm, and the night had passed slowly and uneventfully. Tonks had gone into work that morning to give her report to Scrimgeour. Thankfully, all had gone to plan. Kingsley had managed to secure himself a place in the room as a 'second opinion' for Scrimgeour, which had in turn forced Scrimgeour out of any attempts to use strong, invasive legilimency. Tonks had recounted her story seamlessly, telling a mixture of tales about Mundungus and Emmeline; all fabricated nonsense that would take the Ministry far away from the truth.

Molly leaned across the table to talk quietly to Tonks. Tonks thought she looked a little pallid and ill, in contrast to her usual ruddy complexion.

"I'm worried about you, dear," Molly whispered, glancing at Arthur, whose eyes were firmly fixed upon the table. "You're devoting an awful amount of time to us here at the Order...isn't your mother worried about you?"

Tonks blinked, surprised. "Yeah, I think she is. But she knows that I'm busy."

Molly's eyes looked wet. "I think, dear, that you should see her as soon and as often as possible. It's easy to become swept up in the Order, I know. But really...pop in for a visit as often as you can."

Tonks didn't quite know how to respond to the sudden outburst from the woman, but could hazard a guess at where its origins lay; Molly was putting herself in Tonks' mother's shoes. She was worried for Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and even Percy. Not to mention Harry and Hermione. And most likely every other child she'd ever come into contact with. Tonks reeled a little; shocked; was she the Percy of her own family?

"Yeah, Molly. I'll try," Tonks agreed, not entirely sure whether she was being honest.

At home all of the realities came crashing down on her. While she was in the Order, she could escape with rebellion; not have to think about aunts and uncles and whose birthday it was and who wanted to invite her round for afternoon tea. She had never been able to deal with family, especially as most of the family she had were muggles from her dad's side. It was simply exhausting. And then there were her own mother's ridiculous expectations about what she should be doing with her life. Despite her daughter having one of the best, most rewarding jobs around, Andromeda had to find things to nitpick; most commonly Tonks' lack of domesticity and love life.

Another glance at Molly told her that the older witch had been making herself sick with worry; her red hair looked dry and unkempt, her eyes sore. Tonks felt a tug in her heart.

Arthur sighed and looked up. "I agree, Tonks. It really is important to keep those family ties. We don't mean to lecture you, but I'm sure it would mean the world to them."

Tonks nodded and focused on Remus, feeling a little ashamed of herself. His eyes had stopped roving across the page, and Tonks got the feeling that he had been listening to the conversation taking place next to him. The crease in between his eyebrows had not flattened. His warm eyes met hers and with a smile he closed the book and set it down on the table.

"Wotcher; you've surfaced. Good book?" Tonks asked, not needing the answer.

"Absolutely awful," he said, shaking his head in weary disapproval. "I had suspicions that Umbridge would be cutting down practical and promoting theory but not even the most skilled of wizards could learn spells from this book."

Tonks picked up the book, glanced at a page at random and scoffed. She read; "'_...to produce a patronus, the wizard must focus on a particular memory or feeling, evoking an elated response while vocalising the incantation..._' – they can't be serious..."

Remus sighed. "It is serious," he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. "At this rate, no one will pass their O.W.L.'s at all."

Molly looked terrified, gripping her husband's hand so tight that Tonks saw him wince.

"Do...do you honestly think that they'll fail, Remus?" Molly asked in a hushed whisper, as though if she spoke too loudly her children would hear.

Remus looked a little uncomfortable and evaded the question. "It's difficult to say, Molly. But they will certainly struggle. However, I don't think we should overlook their determination in these matters. I know Harry for one won't take this lying down, and I have no doubt that Hermione will be eager to do all she can to ensure her and her friends are prepared for their practical exams."

"Yes, yes that's true Hermione is very bright..." Molly looked a little reassured.

Sirius jerked awake with a small shout, and Tonks sniggered. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and got to grips with his surroundings. "Sorry, I'm awake now..." he announced, sitting up straighter.

Remus laughed. "We were just discussing Umbridge's teaching methods actually."

"Or lack of them," Tonks corrected.

"Bloody hag," Sirius growled.

"Hmm," Remus agreed. He turned his attention once more upon Tonks. "Nymphadora, you should stay here tonight. Stepping foot outside even for a second will be a bad idea."

"Oh," Tonks replied. "Yeah, I suppose I should. Sirius, do you have a spare room?"

Sirius contemplated for a moment. "A few, but they're not in the most fragrant of condition," he decided.

"It's alright, I can deal with it," Tonks reassured.

"You can stay in my room," Remus offered. All eyes turned towards him; even Molly and Arthur stared. Remus coughed. "That is to say, you can stay in my room whilst I take another. You have work in the morning. You'll be more comfortable."

"Well, thanks Remus, but I don't want to kick you out of your room," Tonks told him. "I'll be fine in-"

"Please," Remus cut across her. "I insist."

Tonks nodded, knowing there was no more room for negotiation.

"_...temperatures will be dropping from now on so be sure to wrap up warm..."_

The majority of the night passed without significant consequence. Molly and Arthur left shortly after ten o'clock, and Sirius continued to doze in his chair. Remus regained interest in his book and Tonks let her eyes drift shut, the sound of the wireless drifting over her; the soothing voice interspersed with the occasional, down-beat song and the distant clatter of the rain and wind outside. The fire crackled half-heartedly and she felt the tension slowly beginning to drain from her body. Her mind slipped towards thoughts of her parents, bringing a fresh wave of guilt over her. Was she being such a bad daughter? How could she deny that she enjoyed spending time with the Order more than with her family? Did that make her an awful, unfeeling person?

At the Order, she was Tonks. With her parents, she became _Nymphadora_; the daughter of Ted and Andromeda, who never quite managed to satisfy what her mother had planned out for her life. Never quite reaching the point where she knew that her mother was proud of her.

The sound of Remus' book on the table shook her out of her own mind. She opened her eyes and found him staring at her with worried eyes.

"I'm going to bed," Tonks said, feeling a little self conscious. "Are you sure about me taking your room, Remus?"

"Absolutely," he smiled kindly.

Tonks exited the room, Remus following her. She crept as stealthily as she could past the curtained portrait of her aunt, sure that she could hear a faint snoring behind the velvet. They made their way up the stairs until they reached the door to what she knew was Remus' room. She felt a little like an intruder. She tried to banish the thought that Remus would be uncomfortable and cold in another room.

Remus pushed the door open, gesturing for her to enter. "I'll just take the things I need and leave you in peace," he assured her.

Tonks perched awkwardly on the edge of the immaculately made bed as Remus collected a change of clothes from his wardrobe. She watched him tentatively, a little abashed at the situation that she found herself in. He glanced around at her, sensing her discomfort. "Don't worry. I wouldn't have you brave one of the spare rooms for anything. I've spent the night in far worse places. Anything with a bed is fine with me."

Tonks smiled tentatively. "Anything with a bed is fine for me too, Remus. Really. I shouldn't be taking your room..."

"I won't hear any more of it, Nymphadora."

"Tonks," she corrected with a small laugh.

"Hmm," he agreed mildly. "I find it a little impersonal to never use your first name."

"I don't know why I let you get away with it so often," Tonks admitted. "It seems to slip my mind with you."

Remus gave a quiet laugh and closed his wardrobe, a bundle of fabric under his arm.

"If you need anything I'll be down the hall. I had better go and wake Sirius or he'll sleep in the kitchen all night. Sleep well, Nymphadora."

"Thanks a lot, Remus," Tonks said earnestly, "see you in the morning."

He left with one last small smile. The door closed and Tonks took in her surroundings. There was nothing on display which would suggest Remus lived there; all of his possessions were tidied away, save for a book on the nightstand which rested open on a page near the end. She picked it up, and was faced with a small line diagram of a werewolf, and a recipe for Wolfsbane. Had he been trying to learn how to brew it? Tonks' heart ached a little; he was so proud and determined inside. He had told her that he hadn't even passed O.W.L. potions; there was no way he'd be able to pick up the technique for Wolfsbane.

She gently replaced the book the way she had found it and lit the lantern beside the bed. The surprising softness of the mattress was too alluring to resist, and soon she was conjuring a toothbrush and removing her robes until she was down to a loose t-shirt. She went to the small adjoining bathroom and brushed her teeth quickly.

The bed, when she finally climbed in, was so warm and soft that she nearly sobbed in relief. The tension had been rising within her all day, fuelled by work and the claps of thunder outside. The rain continued to pelt the window, but Tonks found it soothing her. She turned her head into the pillow and smelt a vague hint of sweat, shampoo and something woolly that she couldn't quite indentify. She found herself comforted by the fact that this was Remus' bed. There was something undeniably trustworthy about him; an aura around him which felt irresistibly safe and warm and secure, like an umbrella in a storm.

Sleep claimed her, slow and heavy.

When she opened her eyes, it was still dark. The lantern had burned out and the rain had eased a little. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was four o'clock. Tonks groaned and closed her eyes, willing herself to go back to sleep.

A shout for help made her sit bolt upright.

"No! No, please...!"

Tonks snatched her wand from her table, stepping into her heavy boots as she climbed down from the bed. She moved to the door, listening, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. Her entire body tensed, sleep forgotten, ready to attack or defend. A quick peer out at the landing told her that it was clear, and she followed the disturbed shouts down the corridor, her mouth dry in terror.

With a slight hesitation, she pushed the offending door open and peered into the darkness.

The room was lit with a lantern that had nearly burnt out, casting the slightest of glows around the room. Enough light to see that there were no Death Eaters or Dark creatures; just Remus asleep, his body tensed in the grip of a nightmare.

He thrashed and reached out, his eyes clenched tightly. The sheets were tangled around him, and his upper body was shirtless had a slight sheen of sweat which clung to his shoulders and neck. His brow was furrowed deeply, his entire body fighting against an invisible force inside his head. The bed groaned under his efforts, and Tonks immediately dropped her guard and hurried over to him.

"Help me..._please_, I...I can't..."

"Remus!"

"No, no, no, _no_!"

"Remus, wake up, you're dreaming! Everything's fine..."

She shook him by the shoulders gently, avoiding his flailing arms. Remus woke with an almighty gasp, his eyes struggling to focus on the unfamiliar room; she knew she shouldn't have let him give her his room. His hair clung to his forehead in clumps, sticking up everywhere else. He looked panicked, and she took his face into her hands and forced him to look at her.

"It was just a dream, Remus, everything's alright."

"Tonks?" he croaked, his voice hoarse. She nodded and brushed the hair back from his face.

Fighting tears at the terror in his face, she continued to stroke his temples and cheeks until he relaxed. Her hands were a little rough and clumsy to be properly soothing. His breathing eventually calmed and he stilled completely against the bed.

He gave her a sweeping glance, and Tonks realised that she had on no pyjama bottoms on. Luckily, her t-shirt covered her modesty just enough to avoid having to feel utterly mortified. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" he asked, his eyes closing.

"No, no it's fine, I was awake anyway," she reassured, not quite sure if it was the truth. "Are you alright?"

He pinched the sweat from his eyes, his face still holding tension. "I'm fine. I just...I need..." His face and trembling body told a different story. He sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. "Come here...please?"

Tonks wasted no time in scooting forwards and wrapping her arms around him, clutching his shoulders tightly. She felt him bury his face in her hair, his breath shaky. His entire body felt on edge; she could feel the tension from the muscles in his back radiate through her palms. His arms felt almost too tight around her, but she didn't dare move. Remus, for the first time since she had met him, had his guard well and truly down; shaking and frightened in only his pyjama bottoms, a nightmare hanging in the air between them.

She voiced the thus unasked question. "Do you always have nightmares?"

He tightened his arms further. "Sometimes, yes. It gets worse depending on the cycle of the moon."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked tentatively.

"No," he admitted. "And you wouldn't want to hear about it; trust me."

"Of course I would," she told him, "if it helps you to talk about it, then I'll hear anything. You can't keep everything locked in, Remus. It's unhealthy. Do you ever talk to anyone properly?"

Remus remained quiet. "I don't want you to feel as though you have to listen to anything."

"I don't," she replied impatiently. "I don't feel obliged to do anything. I'm here because I want to be, Remus. You're my friend, and I can't watch you hurt and not want to help. If I was calling out for help, you wouldn't ignore me, would you?"

"Of course not," he mumbled, burying his face in her shoulder. "But I would rather forget the dream than talk about it. I'm sorry."

"You won't properly forget unless you get it out in the open. It can't leave you unless you open the door for it," Tonks told him quietly.

He let her go and stared at the threadbare covers, grief shining brightly in his eyes. The dying lamp showed the growth of stubble across his face and every line in his face, every grey hair interspersed with sandy brown and in that moment every atom of his existence seemed to be laid out before her. All of the hurt and years of rejection and the prejudice. Anger clouded her mind; Remus was the best, most decent, honest man alive, and the world had beaten him down with their crap. Who couldn't see the good in this wizard? Who couldn't see that he was more human than anyone?

"You should go back to bed," he told her quietly.

"No," she told him firmly. "No! You're not going to shut me out again. I'm right here. Please, Remus."

"Please, what?" he asked, finally meeting her eyes. "What do you want me to say?"

"Just tell me anything. Anything that you've bottled up that needs to come out."

"I wouldn't know where to start," he laughed hoarsely, without humour.

"Start with your nightmare," she urged gently.

Tonks kicked off her heavy boots and settled in for the long run, pulling her legs up underneath her and tugging down her t-shirt. He watched her warily, and then gave a resigned sigh. Remus shuffled to the left a little, giving her an inviting space next to him. She smiled and turned around, settling into the available nook. Her shoulder grazed his.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he sighed, sounding so tired that she felt a little guilty.

"Nope," she said firmly, unable to back down now she had gotten this far.

For a long while they stared at the opposite wall. A sleeping portrait of an ancient looking man with Sirius' nose and ears had not been disturbed by the occurrences in the room. Spider's webs adorned every corner in sight, and Tonks shuddered. The lamp was even dimmer now; hardly any light in the room at all, apart from the nightime sky outside. The rain picked up, the wind gaining strength, pushing against the window pane until it creaked and howled. How on earth was this house still standing?

She coughed, a little uncomfortable. Suddenly aware of the cool air against her legs, she pulled a corner of blanket over her, tucking it in around her waist. Remus got the message; she was going nowhere, whether he spoke or not. He leant over and relit the lamp, bringing a new wave of light over them. Tonks glanced at him and caught a glimpse at his thin but wiry strong frame. His back and shoulders held the definition that she had felt so often over his shirt and robes. She was a little surprised at his lack of self consciousness at his shirtless state. But, Tonks reasoned, it probably paled into insignificance compared to the exposure she was forcing him to undertake. What were clothes when a person's soul was out in the open for all to see?

Just as the thought had occurred to her, he reached over and pulled an old brown dressing robe from the back of the chair next to the bed. He slipped his arms into it, covering the majority of his exposed skin.

"The nightmares usually focus on the transformation," he explained suddenly, his voice distant. "Sometimes, I will see and feel myself transforming. Usually, it's at an unexpected time; when it's not a full moon. I'll be in an everyday situation – say, teaching at Hogwarts or buying something from Diagon Alley and all of a sudden I'll feel and see myself changing. And there's nothing I can do to get away from everyone. Nothing I can do to protect them from me. I know that the wolf will kill everyone and everything."

He drew a shaky breath and Tonks swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. "Go on," she urged. "It's okay."

"Other times, I will be facing another Werewolf, but I will be human. Without my wand and defenceless. It will attack. That's one of the most common dreams...or so I've read. And other times I will dream about my family. My...my parents. I'll be a child again and relive when I was first bitten. I'll transform instantly and seek out my parents. And bite them too...inflicting them with my lycanthropy."

Tears ran down Tonks face, and she brushed them away impatiently. "Remus..." she began. "I don't know how to help you. I don't know what to say."

He looked at her, realising that he had made her upset. His face was instantly full of remorse. "No, please; don't cry...see, I knew this would happen. I destroy everything, Tonks."

His rough, warm hands cupped her face, wiping the tears away as though he had put them there. Carefully passing over her skin with his thumbs, gently, as though he were trying to fix or heal something. His eyes were glued to the tear tracks running down her face. She couldn't remember when she had last cried; it felt strange and unfamiliar. She had never been a huge crier; but now she had started she couldn't stop. Great, sobbing breaths tore form her and she tried to calm down for Remus' sake. She needed him to know that he hadn't made her cry.

"M'fine," she sniffed. "You can carry on telling me."

"No," he told her firmly. "I've done enough damage for one night. I wouldn't dream of it."

"Really, Remus, its okay," she calmed down a little.

His face closed off, and she could tell that that particular conversation was over. Remus changed tact, steering her away completely. "I think you need to see your parents...as soon as possible. It's crucial that we don't lose family bonds during times like this. Promise me, Nymphadora, that you'll visit them tomorrow?"

"Alright," she agreed, thinking back to Remus' dream. "I will, I promise."

"Why have you been avoiding them?" he asked her gently, lowering his hands from her face.

Tonks felt shame rush over her. "I just..." she began, thinking. "I feel so ashamed when I'm with them. Not dad, he's always proud of whatever I do. But with mum, there's always something I'm not doing quite right. There's always a little detail that she needs to change. I love her, and I know she loves me, but I just need to escape that pressure."

"Wanting the best for your children is not necessarily something which implicates disappointment," Remus told her, his voice soft. "She simply worries for you, I'm sure. You have an extremely dangerous job, and added to the fact that she hasn't seen much of you lately-"

"What?" Tonks cut him off, feeling a little abashed. "You think I'm heartless because I haven't had time to see them? You think I'm a Percy Weasley?"

"No," Remus continued calmly. "I don't think that you're like Percy."

"Well everyone else does. Molly and Arthur. Mum and Dad. The whole Order must be thinking about how quickly I dropped my family to join up."

"No one is thinking that," he soothed. "Calm down."

How quickly the tides had turned; wasn't she supposed to be comforting him? Old Remus had returned; the cool, soothing exterior which Tonks had briefly seen past was now firmly back in place, and something told her that it wasn't going to come down again anytime soon.

Remus breathed another weary sigh and slid an arm behind her, drawing her close against him. She went willingly, this time accepting comfort rather than offering it. The wool of his dressing gown felt warm and a little scratchy against her tender cheek. She let him rub her back gently, comforting and firm. She thought for a moment that he was much better at offering comfort than accepting it. His solid presence warmed her though, drying her tears from the inside and instilling a sense of acceptance and friendship.

"Don't be upset, Nymphadora. There's too much sadness in the world for it to lose its brightest smile..."

He pressed a firm kiss against the top of her head and she felt better, but not yet ready to leave the safety of his arms. In just a few short weeks he had become her best friend; he confidant and her source of security. He was her reason to keep fighting and the one who could calm her when she grew anxious. He was the person she looked up to; her mentor and hero.

"...your parents will be so glad to see you. Everything will be fine. You'll feel much better..."

He was a warm embrace in the cold, a kiss on the forehead when she was upset and an umbrella in the rain.

"...we'll be alright..."

And she loved him. More than she could possibly say.

"...I promise."

Tears welled up again, this time on a wave of pure joy. She loved him – Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks loved Remus Lupin. Love; pure, unabashed adoration and respect, and an aching love so intense that she wondered how she would ever find the strength to move from his arms. The best man in the whole entire world.

She hid her face further in his chest to hide and stifle the emotions which threatened to break from her. What would it sound like if she suddenly bubbled over? She had a rather hilarious vision of herself breaking into an operatic solo and giggled helplessly against him.

Remus seemed startled. "What's so funny?"

She looked up. He looked relieved that she had stopped crying, but a little startled that she may have gone insane. This set her off into a stronger fit of giggles, and she buried her face into his shoulder and rode out the wave of euphoria and hilarity until he was laughing with her, his face bewildered and gently amused.

Eventually, her stomach relaxed and the laughter died down, leaving only a few stray giggles. "Nothing. Just everything," she explained unhelpfully.

His smile held so much tenderness and adoration that Tonks gasped a little. She didn't know where they stood, and didn't think that they would ever get any further than the place they were in now. But did she ever want to leave where they were now? Did she want to spoil this close friendship which declarations of love? How would they regain themselves if she voiced her feelings only to be told that he sees her only as a friend or apprentice?

"Sometimes it's good to laugh at nothing. Or anything, as the case may be," he agreed, smoothing her hair back from her face.

She scooted up and kissed his forehead, mirroring the gesture which so often brought her comfort from him. He hummed happily, and Tonks felt a little proud that she had banished his nightmare blues.

"I think I've kept you awake long enough," he told her. "You should go back to bed."

"Can I stay here? Please?" she asked without any real thought.

He paused, and looked a little wary. He stared at her for a moment. "If you like," he said finally, his voice giving no hint of his own opinion on the matter.

She nodded and settled down on her side of the bed, facing inwards. He remained sitting against the headboard for a moment, considering her as she made herself comfortable, before giving in a lying down, a little stiffly, next to her. What they had shared tonight seemed to have advanced them past the stage where they had to be wary in each other's company. They could sleep in each other's presence because they had both suffered together and laughed together. There was an invisible thread binding them together in a way in which they both felt safe with.

Tonks noticed that he let her have the majority of the blanket, and huddled himself further into his dressing gown. She was grateful, as her exposed legs would have caused her a little embarrassment.

So close that she could feel his breath, she closed her eyes and found herself instantly drifting off to sleep. The influx of the strongest emotions she had felt in years had worn her out to the point where she was sure she could sleep for an entire day. They lay face to face, not quite touching, but not quite apart either.

She could have simply _imagined_ the feel of his eyes open upon her face for a long while after she had closed her own, but she didn't think that she did.

* * *

When she woke to the fresh feel of morning, Tonks knew instantly where she was and remembered what had happened last night. She opened her eyes, and wasn't entirely surprised when she found the bed empty save for herself. She opened her palm against the sheets and found them warm; he hadn't been gone long. She searched around the room for a clock, and found nothing. Judging by the light she would guess that it was at least seven o'clock. This meant she had work in an hour, and had to get up immediately.

She groaned into the pillow, her body aching for more sleep.

The huge spider crawling up the wall clinched the deal, and she shot out of bed, wrapping the blanket around her waist and dashing into Remus' room, where she had left her things last night.

A hasty wash and change of clothes later, and she was slowly creeping downstairs, trying to arrange herself in a way that would suggest that she hadn't had the same robes on for two days running. She morphed her hair into what was hopefully a presentable pink coif, and finally reaching the kitchen door, took a deep breath and entered.

Sirius was quiet and alone in the kitchen. He was reading the Prophet, his eyes sharp and disapproving; the headline read; _Dumbledore Insanity Forces Parents to Withdraw Children from Hogwarts._

"Wotcher," she said, as brightly as she could manage.

Tonks felt a little bad; in her attentions to Remus she had neglected how Sirius must feel trapped in the childhood home. He had Remus and some of the Order members for company, but that was it. Any trips outside as Snuffles had been strictly forbidden my Dumbledore; even Sirius didn't dare to deny a direct order from the Professor himself.

Sirius looked up and said, "Morning. Sleep well?"

"Yeah, fine," she mumbled her face flushing. "Seen Remus?"

"He's outside," Sirius told her, nodding towards the door which she knew led outside to the yard.

She nodded and left him to read his paper, her hand shaking a little as she exited the kitchen through the door. She took the damp, stone staircase up into the courtyard. She was greeted by the fresh smell of rain on the grass and the cool air of early morning. The storm had cleared in the night, leaving a covering of white, harmless cloud like a quiet blanket over the day. Puddles were deep and Tonks shivered, pulling her robes tighter about herself.

She found Remus seated on the low, brick wall, a mug of tea clutched in his hands.

Tonks cleared her throat, visibly startling him. "Hiding, Remus?" she asked with a grin.

"No," he smiled. The steam from his hot drink swirled in the air, rising up into the cool day and out of sight. "Not at all. I needed some fresh air after a night in that awful room."

"Tell me about it," she agreed. "You just missed a spider the size of Hagrid."

"Lucky me," he rasped.

Tonks caught sight of his eyes and gasped; they were red rimmed and bloodshot. His face was pale and drawn. "Remus...did you get any sleep at all?"

"Ah, no," he admitted a little sheepishly. "Not much at all, if I'm honest."

"Was it because I was there?" Tonks asked warily. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"No, no," Remus assured her. "I simply found it difficult to relax my mind. If anything, you made me more comfortable."

Tonks grinned. "Really?"

"Yes, of course."

She took a deep, shuddering breath and sat next to him on the wall. He took a deep sip of his tea and looked out at the sparse yard. A light mist clung to everything in the yard; a discarded wheelbarrow seemed to be playing host to something that was stirring lightly, and an old rust swing sat blowing slightly in the breeze. Tonks imagined Sirius coming out here to sulk as a child. She could visualise exactly how he would have hunched his small back and swung glumly back and forth.

She stared at her boots, which were shining with the remnants of the rain.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you," she told him, a little awkwardly.

"Not a problem. If anyone should be saying thank you, it should be me," Remus replied. Tonks looked up at him curiously. "You were right. I don't talk about things. No one ever asks. But you did, and it helped. I'm very grateful. You've brought things out of me that were so deep down I didn't even know they were there. And I feel better...so much better. Thank you."

"That's fine," she told him happily. "I'm always here to listen."

"Thank you," he told her again.

He took her hand in his. His skin felt rough and safe against hers, and the warmth from his mug of tea still lingered in his palms, which in turn heated up her slightly chilly fingers. She smiled at him, seeing every detail of his face in the clear morning light.

They sat in contented silence for as long as they could, the morning air sharpening their senses, their hands joined.

They stood on a precipice, Tonks realised. This was the point of no return. She couldn't go back from this; couldn't forget him if she wanted to. He had grown to be a part of her, and she cared for his wellbeing possibly more than her own. He was an extension of her – they completed the other. Where she was naive, he was wise. Where he was jaded and worn, she was bright and new. And where they both felt pain, the other soothed and guided.

This was them; complicated and unsure - uncategorised. Not yet in something solid and stable, but at the stage where it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the allure of such an alliance.

Was it possible that they would go any further, Tonks wondered. Would they be stuck in his grey area between happiness and uncertainty?

She loved him.

What on earth was she going to do about it?

_To be continued..._

* * *

**There we have it; what I consider to be the turning point of the story. Please keep up your feedback, as it means a lot to me. I hope you enjoyed; more coming soon!**


	10. Nocturnal Love

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Nocturnal Love

"And of course she hasn't seen you in months but I told her that you were well and that you'd pop in for a chat if you were in the area so make sure you do..."

Tonks sighed and picked at her food. She had finally gone to her parents for dinner, and was currently being presented with the inevitable barrage of advice, criticism and comments on her appearance. Her mother sat across from her, cutting her own food into tiny, neat pieces before chewing tightly. In between mouthfuls, the advice came.

"And really, Nymphadora, the pink hair suited you when you were nineteen but don't you think it's time for something a little more demure?"

She closed her eyes and focused on the comfort of a home cooked meal, trying not to let her mother's anxieties spoil her evening. Her father, Ted Tonks, sat next to his wife, silent. He seemed to avert his gaze whenever Andromeda said something which could flare an argument. Tonks found herself glancing pleadingly at her father, willing him to change the course of the conversation. Sometimes, he threw an apologetic glance back; sometimes he simply smiled as though nothing was wrong. Did her father agree with what her mother was saying?

Tonks gave nods where necessary, and zoned Andromeda's voice out.

"Too long away from home can send you stir crazy, no wonder you're looking a little pale..."

Work had been trying enough without the added stress of this evening. Scrimgeour, instead of sending her on her usual surveillance job, had given her an uncalled for amount of paperwork to complete; her heart had sank a little when she had seen that he had given her the court cases of all of the Aurors who had committed treason against the Ministry of Magic since the 1960s. She had organised and filed them as he had asked, whilst confronted with the reality of what would happen if she was caught; ten years in Azkaban, twenty...thirty.

"Too much work..."

She could be putting everyone in danger. Her parents, the Order, her friends...

"Absolutely no inclination of settling down..."

Was it worth it? Could she keep this up?

"And then of course you're gallivanting around with people like Remus Lupin..."

That broke Tonks from her reverie. "What?" she asked, Remus' name ringing in the air.

Andromeda said nothing, pursing her lips at her plate. Her father's attention seemed to have been caught; he looked up from his empty, gravy covered plate with interest, looking between Andromeda and Tonks, his face confused. Tonks felt her face flush.

"Mum," Tonks warned.

Andromeda abandoned her knife and fork with a clatter. She made a short job of delicately dabbing her mouth with a handkerchief and then looked directly into her daughter's eyes. Tonks immediately looked away, the blush creeping up from her neck, through her ears, all the way up to her hairline.

"Dora?" her father had finally spoken up.

Tonks shot her father the best _it's nothing_ glance she could muster and set to work dissecting a carrot.

"Andromeda?"

Silence.

"Dora?"

"Dad?"

"Andromeda?"

"Ted?"

"Would someone care to explain what's going on?"

For a heartbeat, her mother looked hesitant. It didn't last; "I met Nymphadora the other day in Diagon Alley. With Remus Lupin. Practically hand in hand."

Ted was frozen in surprise for a moment, before he regained control, his face becoming uncomfortable. "Well...Dora, I can't say I approve of-"

"Dad!" Tonks snapped. "Not you too. You can't honestly believe this. There's nothing going on between me and Remus."

"Oh, so its _Remus _now is it?" Andromeda snarled, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Oh, I'm sorry, _Mrs Tonks_, I forgot that we don't use first names in this house."

"That's enough," Ted boomed, his voice calm but firm.

Tonks stopped, almost gasping for breath. Anger ran hot and steady through her entire body. Her hands trembled. She looked at her mother; the splitting image of herself; red blotched cheeks, wide, vivid eyes and a tight mouth. With each deep breath, Tonks calmed down.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm just...tired."

"That's alright, Dora," he father nodded gruffly, reaching over to place a warm, solid hand over her own clenched fist. "We understand. Don't we, Andromeda?"

Tonks' mother said nothing, but gave a small, terse nod, her eyes looking a little damp. Her father's hand tightened a little on her own, and Tonks felt her eyes well a little; she had missed this feeling of home. Not the fighting; just the warmth that surrounded her father. His gentle but gruff understanding of her and the acceptance.

"Nymphadora," her mother started quietly, her voice trembling. "Are you going to explain what you were doing with Remus Lupin, or are you going to let us assume to worst?"

"The worst?" Tonks repeated blankly. "Remus and I are friends, Mum. That's all."

"Friends?" Andromeda said, a little hysterically. "And where, may I ask, did you acquire such a friend?"

Tonks was stumped. Where could she possibly have not only met, but gotten to know Remus Lupin? How could she tell her parents what they wanted to hear without raising suspicion?

"We met at the Leaky Cauldron. He's always in there and so am I," she told them, as naturally as she could manage.

"Because, you know, Dora; Mr Lupin was at school when we were. Surely you can see why we should be concerned. That is quite an age gap," Ted reasoned, taking a small sip of cider. "And there's...well...the matter of him...well, he's-"

"A werewolf," Andromeda supplied, blinking hard at the table. Her hands lay flat and unmoving on the table.

"So that's what this is about?" Tonks asked, incredulous. "Me being friends with a werewolf? I thought you both knew better than to discriminate like that. Didn't you teach me to see everyone as equal?"

"Everyone _is_ equal, Nymphadora," Andromeda reasoned. "But surely you can see that consorting with – let's face it – not the most popular creature in the wizarding world right now can put you in a compromising position. We have always encouraged you to be kind to people no matter what their circumstances are. But there comes a time when you see your child putting themselves in danger and you simply don't care about anyone or anything else. When I saw you on the street the other day with Remus Lupin all I could think about was getting you away from him. There are stigmas surrounding his kind and though we know they are not true you could be placing your job – which you've worked so hard for – in jeopardy."

"The Ministry can't stop me being friends with Remus," Tonks replied.

"No, but they can do their upmost to make your life miserable until you do things their way, and you know that's true."

"Mum," Tonks pleaded. "I know what I'm doing. I won't let my job be compromised but I won't give up my friends out of fear. I know you wouldn't either."

Andromeda's lips pinched. "This isn't about what I would do. It's about what you should do. How can I see you making mistakes and not try and discourage you?"

"Who says I'm making any mistakes?" Tonks asked, throwing her hands up. "You went against what you were told you believe in and married dad."

"Yes, I did. And I wouldn't change that for the world. But the circumstances are different. We're talking about me going against the beliefs of my family. You're trying to rebel against the entire wizarding world and what they feel about werewolves."

Ted spoke, his voice cutting through the heated debate. "Now listen, both of you. We don't need to fight about this. Let's all just cool down. I'm sure that Remus Lupin is an admirable chap, Andromeda. Dora doesn't mix with untrustworthy people. And I think that as an Auror she can spot the wrong ones when she sees them."

"But, Ted! All of the things we read in the paper about him. Running wild at Hogwarts on a full moon. How irresponsible can a man be? To put all of those children in danger...to risk the lives and health of others." Andromeda defended herself. "You want me to watch our daughter place herself in danger and simply let it happen?"

"No," Ted soothed. "But let's at least give her a chance to justify herself."

"Remus isn't like that," Tonks piped up, raising her chin a little in defiance. "He's a better man than that. He would never put people in danger on purpose. If you knew him properly you'd understand. What happened at Hogwarts was an accident, but he still beats himself up about it, I can tell. And if you're worried about him bringing the wrong sort of people into my life then you can stop worrying because he doesn't mix with anyone bad. And he's not bad. At all. He's the most trustworthy man I know, actually. Apart from you, dad, obviously. And I won't stand for you bringing him down like this. He's had this all his life, and he's still...he's wonderful. Just, the best."

Her mother stared at her for a long moment, and then spoke.

"You're in love with him."

Tonks heart skipped a beat. "Mum, don't be silly..."

"You are. I can see it in your face. I know exactly what this is. You can't lie to me, Nymphadora. I've been you."

And with that, her mother stood, gathering the dishes and glasses from the table and stalking into the kitchen to clean up.

Ted cleared his throat and rested his chin on his linked fists, avoiding his daughter's eye. "Dad, really...see sense. Remus is just a friend."

"Is he, Dora?" her father asked, looking at her with knowing eyes. "I'm not the most observant of people but even I can see how you talk about this man. And I can't pretend that I really approve. He's so much older, Dora, and...Well, does he even earn any money?"

"No," Tonks told him through gritted teeth. "But I don't see how that makes a difference to me being friends with someone."

Her father didn't look convinced in the slightest. "Yes, well, I think your mother has some apple pie for pudding. That sounds good, doesn't it? Let's not argue anymore."

The apple pie was eaten in tense silence, and cleared away in a similar atmosphere. Tonks pondered her situation.

She had thought last night as she had fallen asleep with Remus how much she loved him; she had felt it fill her up and twist in the pit of her stomach. It had heated her skin and set her soul on fire, filling her with so much joy that she felt as though she could swim in the air. Tonight had brought her back to the reality, and while she was in no doubts about her feelings towards him, her parents' disapproval had brought another layer to the situation. She shouldn't be worrying them like this; no matter how she saw Remus Lupin they would be frightened of her compromising herself. Tonks could see no way of putting their minds at rest other than cutting contact with Remus, and that was going to happen when hell froze over.

For the rest of the night, she tried to avoid her mother's stare. Her father had opted for cheerier subjects of conversation, but Tonks could feel the tension running through him.

This is how it had to be, Tonks realised, if she wanted to continue what she was doing for the Order.

* * *

The open mouth of Knockturn Alley loomed tauntingly before her. It was going to be a long day.

Tonks sighed and descended the stone steps, her footfalls echoing unnervingly. Each step that she took hung restlessly in the air for a moment, ringing off the brick walls and cobbles, before it left. The days were growing colder, and Tonks appreciated the warmth of her thick cloak.

As part of her surveillance job for Scrimgeour, she had been assigned a shift in the notorious alley, to look out for any known allies of Dumbledore's. She had morphed her hair long and dark, with a thick fringe that masked her identity reasonably. Though she hadn't anticipated it, her new darker choice of image helped her blend in with the dwellers of the alley, which she greatly appreciated.

The deeper she went, the darker it became. The high walls of the street seemed like a prison, blocking most of the sunlight and sending her into the bone-chilling dampness. The crunch of leaves surrounded her, and her breath hung in the air as mist. The alley was lined with shops; some open, others boarded up with thick wood. None of them looked as though they made an honest trade. Tonks shuddered and began her slow walk along the cobbles, trying to ignore the sound of stray cats fighting.

She passed a hunched woman, trying to ignore the small whimpers coming from beneath the darkness of the hood. The urge to help was quashed by the knowledge that people would do anything to lure people in down here; you couldn't trust anyone at all.

Unsure what she was supposed to be looking for, Tonks wandered aimlessly. She had to keep up the pretence of looking for Remus, Emmeline or Mundungus, but knew that she would most likely find none of them in the Alley. So, she had three hours to kill in the dreariest corner of the wizarding world, and to add insult to injury, she had the lurking suspicion that she was being watched.

Stopping at the nearest shop window, she peered in. The grime obscured the view inside, but she could make out a dark figure bustling about inside, and the faint light of a candle. Reasoning that she may as well get out of the cold, she entered the shop.

Tonks was greeted by the sight of a long shelf full of dusty bottles, small wooden figurines and various other trinkets. There was a small circular table of dog-eared books, and Tonks idly picked one up. On the front was a crude image of a wolf being slain by a wizard holding a wand and Tonks frowned down at it, resisting the urge to flick through its contents. She was convinced that it would displease her.

"Tonks?"

She swung around, startled, and realised that the dark figure was Remus' friend Jasper Bard. His wide smile stood out in the dim room, his bald head shining in the candlelight. She let out a breath of relief. "Jasper! You made me jump."

"Ah, not quite the response I was after but it's better than what I usually get. I see you've changed your hair...How are you?"

"Fine, fine," Tonks answered, smiling. "You?"

"Brilliant, actually. I found myself a job," Jasper grinned, gesturing around the room.

Tonks hesitated, unsure. "This? You work here?"

He let out a full bellied laugh. "Oh ye of little faith, Tonks. You've been hanging around with Remus too much. I don't just work here. This is my shop. I saved up what I earned at the Leaky and bought this place. I had some savings in Gringotts too from...before. Of course the location's a bit awful but it'll have to do."

Tonks smiled, unsure of what to say.

"It's a shop for werewolves," Jasper explained, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "You see? Over there we have freshly brewed Wolfsbane for one galleon a dose. And here," he gestured to the small table of books, "books on old remedies to help with the transformation. And old charms and jars of herbs that have healing properties. Those carved wolves over there apparently help a sufferer to channel the rage of the wolf into the model, so they can be free of a lot of the stress of the transformation."

"That's brilliant," Tonks enthused. "When did you start all of this? Does Remus know?"

Jasper's face fell a little. "Yes, he knows. He...he doesn't think anyone will come in. Yeah, I know, classic optimistic Remus. I started just this week. No customers just yet, but I'm sure some will come in soon with it being so close to the full moon. There are more werewolves hanging around London than you would think."

"I'm sure," Tonks agreed, fidgeting with the edge of her cloak.

She wasn't entirely sure how Jasper would be able to make a living out of this shop. Remus was right; it was highly unlikely that anyone would own to being a werewolf by entering the shop whilst passing by, and word surrounding a new shop in Knockturn Alley would most likely not reach any potential customers.

"Say, has Remus said anything about picking up his brew of Wolfsbane? The full moon is in two nights," Jasper asked.

"No," Tonks admitted, frowning. "He doesn't like to talk about things like that."

"Ah, I suppose not," Jasper nodded. "When do you see him next?"

"Tonight," Tonks replied.

"Could you pass it on for me?" he asked, taking a small bottle out of the pocket of his robes and handing it to Tonks. "It should be okay in the bottle for a few hours. He'll need more than that so make sure he comes to see me. It's fresh."

"Sure," Tonks smiled, relief washing though her; Remus would have his mind for the next full moon.

The sound of the door opening made Tonks turn. Two burly, cloaked men entered, one behind the other, their hoods raised. Instinctively, Tonks stiffened and placed a cautionary hand on her wand, ready to spring into action. The men paused at the sight of her, but did not leave. Tonks felt Jasper tense behind her.

"Hello, gentlemen. May I help you? Are you looking for anything in particular?" he asked, and Tonks could hear the tremble in his voice; wizards doing their afternoon shopping didn't prowl into shops with their hoods up.

The two men said nothing, and began to rummage through the sparse contents of the shop with little care or respect for the fact that it was someone else's property. Tonks watched, tensed, hoping that they would leave without a scene. A hope that was immediately dashed as the violent rip of the first book echoed through the room. Lumps of pages were trashed, large brusque hands tearing mercilessly until the spine was empty and a new victim was selected.

Then came the bottles; the crash of glass as it landed on the floor and shattered. Herbs and medicines made huge webs on the floor.

Tonks felt her hands shoot to her wand, heard her own cried mingling with those of Jasper. At the first stunning spell - this was blocked by the taller of the two men - their attentions turned towards herself and Jasper. Tonks swallowed the feeling of intimidation at the blank, lifeless hollows within the hoods. The features were blurs in the dark shroud.

"Now, listen," she said, her voice sharp. "I'm an Auror, and you're in direct violation of the Wizarding Law. You're going to stop this right now, pay for the damage and get the hell out of this man's shop, or you're going to rot in Azkaban. Understand?"

She knew as she heard the first sniggers that her attempts to calm the situation had been futile. To tell the truth, she hadn't honestly expected them to say sorry, tidy up and leave quietly. But it was worth a try.

Quicker than she had ever known herself achieve, she stunned the smaller of the two men, feeling the pressure lift slightly at the fact that one of them had fallen. He stumbled back against the shelf, which came down under the pressure with a huge crack. The sniggering had stopped and Tonks paused, defensive, waiting to see whether the other one would back off. She heard him draw a breath, ready to cast a spell and quick sent spell his way, which was blocked. The next was blocked also, and the next.

She was momentarily frozen in panic at the sight of Jasper slumped against the counter, his head limp against his chest.

In her frenzy, she barely even registered the word as it was muttered from under the hood; _crucio._

It sounded alien, and for a moment, her mind was blank. Then the pain hit.

Burning hot, searing agony which ripped at her flesh and she couldn't even hear herself scream through the pounding of fire through her veins. In the back of her mind, she heard Mad-Eye's voice crying out; _constant vigilance_. This was the ultimate price for her lack of attentiveness. The shattering of her skull and the collapsing and grinding of every single bone in her body. Merciless claws were ripping at her flesh, digging it out and gouging right down to her bones. She was blind, deaf and dumb, but could feel herself screaming so hard that she wondered if her throat would tear itself out.

And then it was over, and her skin tingled with the aftermath of the assault.

Her wand; where was her wand? In her hand. Where was her voice?

"_Stupefy!_" she choked in the direction of a black figure, her knees cold against the stone floor. She shook herself off, got up on shaky legs and continued her battle, this time conscious of protecting herself as well as attacking.

The man was more than a match; he blocked her spells and gave her a run for her money when it came to defending herself.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

it was the single most chilling cry of hate that she had ever had heard, and she threw herself out of the way, colliding with the wall, aware of the venom behind the spell and not quite trusting herself to block it.

"_Stupefy!_" The voice was new and came from somewhere behind her, in chorus with her own. The combined attack hit the hooded man and he fell, surprised, to the floor, unconscious and limp.

Tonks let out a sigh of relief and sank to the floor, her skin tingling, her mind reeling in shock. The spell that had almost killed her hung in the air; thick and hateful. She thought, not for the first time, that she would never become hardened to it; the knowledge that someone wants you dead as it prepared to scream for it to happen.

"Nymphadora. Look at me. Are you alright?"

She felt warm, rough hands against her face and started, confronted by the tense face of Remus Lupin.

"Yeah," she croaked, her head pounding. "Where's Jasper?"

"He'll be fine. He's just unconscious. He's not hurt. Are...are you hurt?"

"No," Tonks stated, not quite sure if she was or not. Her entire body felt numb, yet it ached with an intensity that made her want to cry out.

As she regained her bearings, she saw the mess that had once been Jasper's shop. Nothing had been left whole; everything was shattered, broken and strewn about the room. Tonks felt a sudden jolt of sympathy and guilt that they had not defended Jasper's hard work in the haste of the battle.

With a long release of breath, Remus nodded. His face was grim and set and his eyes held very little of their usual warmth.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to get something from Jasper," Remus explained shortly. "Did Scrimgeour send you here?"

Tonks nodded. Remus looked amused for a split second, and reached out a gentle hand to smooth her unfamiliarly long hair away from her face. "I barely recognised you," he told her quietly, parting her fringe a little so that he could see her face more clearly. Tonks flinched away from his touch a little, not wanting to need comfort. She could deal with this.

Tonks let her gaze travel across the room, coming to a halt on Jasper's limp form. Remus followed the line of her eyes and, evidently reminded of his friends state of unconsciousness, stood up and went over to him. Remus revived Jasper, who woke with a loud intake of breath and his arms flailed a little as his mind battled to piece together what had just occurred. She _could_ deal with this. She could.

"Remus?" he gasped.

"It's alright, old friend. It's over," Remus told Jasper quietly. "I'm sorry."

"You tried to warn me," Jasper nodded, grimacing as he looked around the ruin of his business.

Once they helped Jasper get back on his feet, Tonks decided that they needed to do something about the attackers, who would be waking soon. After a little deliberation, she decided to call for someone from the Auror department to collect them and take them in for questioning.

"You'll have to leave," Tonks told Remus quietly. "If they see you with me..."

"I know," he replied, his eyes upon hers with an intensity that made her wish they were alone. "I'll stay until you've passed on the message."

Tonks nodded and crossed over to the first of the fallen attackers. She kicked the hood back from his face, revealing a bald head and heavyset features; the wizard that tried to take her life. His nose looked squashed back into his face, and Tonks tried not to stare too long; it wouldn't do to see the man's face in her nightmares. She could, could, _could_ deal with this.

"What do we think?" Tonks asked. "Is he a Death Eater?" She kept her voice low so as not to alarm Jasper.

Remus looked grim. "No, I don't think so. I recognise him."

He pulled down the neck of the man's robes, and revealed a deep, white, mangled looking scar at the join between his neck and thick shoulder. It could only have come from a bite. "A werewolf?" Tonks asked, shocked. She realised; "they don't believe in trying to integrate into the normal world?"

Remus said nothing, but took her hand, squeezing it briefly. "If you're sure about staying here, I'll take Jasper to the Leaky Cauldron and meet you at Headquarters tonight."

Tonks nodded, reluctant for him to leave, but eager to get this whole incident tied up as quickly as possible. She knew that she would have to give a full report to the Ministry and that by the time she was finished for the day it would be dark outside. Her heart sank and her stomach rumbled.

Tonight couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

Much later, Tonks plodded wearily through the front door of Grimmauld Place. Careful not to wake Sirius' mother, she tiptoed over the creaky wooden floorboards. Her feet ached, and her throat felt scratchy from endless retellings of the incident in Knockturn Alley. Scrimgeour had shown his usual hostile suspicion towards her, asking every question he could think of to try and trip her up. Tonks prayed that no one saw Remus in Knockturn Alley; it would only cause more complications; only require more deception.

She was tired of lying to everyone.

A small shout of surprise echoed through the hallway as she was ambushed by the umbrella stand, and was sent sprawling across the cold wooden floor. Dust surrounded her in a little cloud of ridicule.

"_Freak! Shape shifting scum! Traitor! Be gone from my noble house!"_

She closed her eyes and let the screaming of Mrs Black wash through her, tired of fighting. Her limbs felt heavy and numb. She didn't think she could have gotten up even if she had wanted to. Somewhere between joining the Order of the Phoenix and now, the fire had gone out in her stomach. The intrinsic urge to fight and protect had given way to weariness. Was there a point to this war? Could evil ever be defeated?

Suddenly, the screeching stopped; giving way to echoing silence, and Tonks felt herself being gently tugged to her feet.

Warm, strong arms came around her and this time Tonks' didn't resist. Remus rocked her gently, and she felt the despair come to a head; the events of the day passing before her in huge, gripping waves. A man who had fought for normality after it was taken from his seeing his shop being ripped to pieces. The cruelty of the spell that had almost taken her life...

"Remus..." she gasped. She didn't cry; the anguish seemed to reach somewhere beyond that; some rough, dry, tearless place where sandpaper ground at her insides.

She had made such a mess of everything.

"I know," he breathed against the top of her hair, which was now pink and coifed. "I know. It's alright."

Tonks closed her eyes and let herself be held. His arms tightened around her waist, stroking soothing circles against her back.

"I had a feeling this would happen," he continued. "Come on; let's find somewhere we can talk."

"What about the meeting?" she asked.

Remus stared at her, his face worried. "It's over, Tonks. It's almost Midnight."

"Oh," her voice sounded far away.

She let Remus lead her down into the empty kitchen. A fire burned low, and the soft glow soothed her tired eyes. She let them droop a little and before she knew it she was being pushed gently into a chair, and a mug of hot, sweet tea was burning her palms. She clung to it, trying to let the warmth effuse right through to her soul. Remus dragged a chair to face her and sat close, without the barrier of the table between them.

"Nymphadora," Remus began quietly. "I know you've had a bad day..."

"Yes, I have," Tonks agreed. "I'll be fine, Remus, don't worry."

"No, you're not fine," he disagreed. "We need to talk about this. This is serious. This is what happens during a war. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Tonks looked down and he lifted her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. His eyes held such acceptance and gentility that Tonks could barely look away. The contours of his face caught the firelight in a way that she had grown to love. The urge to reach out and trace over his laugh lines overwhelmed her, and she did just that. His face felt a little weathered, but surprisingly smooth. Her fingers moved down a little, travelling over the scratch of stubble. It was there that her fingers stilled, against the line of his jaw.

"Sometimes," she admitted, "I don't know if I can do this. All of this; keeping the secret from everyone for the sake of the Order, and having to pretend all of the time that I'm loyal to everyone. I have to pretend that I'm loyal to my parents by keeping myself out of danger when I know that's a lie and that I could be killed at any time. And there's pretending that I'm loyal to the Ministry when I know that I'm loyal to the Order. Over the past few months I don't think I've gone a day without telling a complete and utter, bold-faced lie."

Remus said nothing, and waited patiently for her to continue, his eyes full of compassion.

"I know why I'm doing this; I know it's the right thing to do but...how can I feel comfortable with being a liar all of the time? The things we do and see they're all...so powerful but they don't bring you comfort, do they? At the end of the day the idea of fighting for a cause is much more attractive than the reality. Once you become part of the Order, and the Order becomes normality, then you start to crave everything you can't have. You start wanting a normal life again. A person can't live on the edge all of the time. Your nerves get shot to pieces. I can't fight for an invisible cause anymore. I know it's right, but it's exhausting."

"I know," he said again, and brushed her hair back from her face. "I've craved normality all of my life. Someone living in normality no doubt craves abnormality. It's what we can't have that we inevitably seem to want. But always know that, you, Nymphadora, are one of the best witches I know. It's all well and good to have skill but _you_ have so much passion for what you do. You feel this experience right down to your core. When it stops affecting you; when you stop crying over it...that's when you should worry."

Tonks nodded and he slipped off his chair, kneeling before her, his face level with hers.

"I wouldn't change the past few months for the world," Tonks admitted, resting her hands on his broad shoulders.

Remus chuckled quietly. "You could have fooled me," he joked, resting his own hands lightly against her kneecaps.

"No, I wouldn't," she repeated adamantly. "All of the crap things we have to see, it's all worth it in the end. I found you."

She saw his eyes light up in a mixture of shock and emotion. He moved his hands to cup her face, gently stroking her temples. Tonks felt her eyelids droop a little at the comforting gesture. Her mind and body craved sleep, but her blood was singing.

"And I you," he agreed.

Tonks wasn't aware of anything around her. This was their own little three-foot-squared world, filled with firelight and love.

She was Remus' face crumple a little. "You are...so precious to me, Nymphadora. If I could protect you from this war, I would."

She gripped the hair at the back of his head and brought her forehead to rest against his. She went a little cross eyed trying to gain focus on his face, and settled for closing her eyes lightly.

And that's when it happened.

He leant forward - and before Tonks could register the soft press of his nose against her cheek or the fact that his breath smelt of chocolate – his lips were pressing softly against hers. She gasped against his mouth, her mind racing over the fact that Remus Lupin was, in fact, kissing her.

His lips felt like home. Her eyes welled up with tears of happiness and she wound her arms around his neck, bringing him closer.

He broke away gently, reaching up to untangle her arms from around his neck. Tonks pulled back reluctantly, not sure if she wanted to look him properly in the eyes; what would she find. Would he regret the kiss – the moment of weakness?

"I'm sorry," he sighed, and made to get up.

"No," she protested, trying to pull him down again. He went, a little reluctantly, kneeling back down. "You're not running away. You're not going anywhere."

"I can't give you this," he whispered, so quietly that she had to strain to hear properly.

This time, she didn't stop him when he rose to his feet. Tonks let her hands rest uselessly in her lap. Suddenly, everything felt numb. Her lips tingled in the aftermath of their kiss, and she resisted the urge to touch them to check that they were still there.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, turning towards the kitchen counter and pulling out a loaf of bread.

"Yes, a bit," she admitted quietly.

As she sat sit, the anger began to build in gripping, heated waves. Who did he think he was? How dare he kiss her and then act like nothing had happened? Could he toy with her emotions any more if he tried?

"Remus," he spoke though gritted teeth. "You kissed me."

Silence for a moment, and then; 'I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I'm not. I am, however, wondering why you feel the need to leave me in the lurch. I never know where I am with you, Remus. It's like you punish yourself for getting too close to me."

Remus hesitated, cutting the bread. "I'm not punishing myself. I know that we have become close. Do I punish myself for feeling that way? No. Do I wish that I could protect you from the burdens that I carry? Yes. I...I can't love you and protect you at the same time, Nymphadora. It's a contradiction. You have no idea how I struggle with this choice, but to keep you safe...we can't be like this."

"Then why kiss me?" Tonks demanded, rising from her seat to confront him. "Why?"

"I don't know," he told her, quietly. "I'm sorr-"

"Stop apologising!"

He abandoned the loaf of bread and pinched the bridge of his nose. For a moment, it was quiet.

Tonks broke the silence. "Kiss me again."

She felt her heart speed up as he turned to face her. He took her face in his hands and, to her dismay, brushed a small kiss against her cheek, and then her forehead. She closed her eyes and tangled her hands in the front of his robes.

He released her and set back to work on the bread, not speaking a word.

"That wasn't what I meant, Remus. And you know it."

"I do know," he agreed.

Tonks knew that the conversation had come to an end, and that there was nothing else she could say.

"I suppose I should leave then, shouldn't I?"

Remus caught her wrist as she turned to go, and she looked into his face, surprised. He looked torn. "You have to understand that the last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"Then why are you?" she asked. "We might not have much time, Remus. Every day we're at risk, whether or not you keep your distance."

He looked as though he was coming over to her point of view. Tonks seized the chance and ran with it, squeezing it for all it was worth. She loved him, and he had opened up a door, however slight. He was her reason for being, and she couldn't give him up without a fight. She had never felt this before; this all-consuming adoration of a man. She had felt lust and had experienced strong crushes, but they seemed like child's-play in the shadow of what she felt coursing through her as she looked at Remus.

Feeling bold, she stepped forward and, throwing caution to the wind grabbed his head and brought him down into a searing kiss.

He didn't respond for a moment, but then she felt his hand – just there – in the small of her back. She wound her fingers into his hair, unable to even contemplate letting him go. It took him another few moments, but his lips gradually began to respond to her, and he pulled her – apparently caught in the frenzy which she had created – flush against him. Hips against hips, lips covering hers.

This was what she had needed for so long; what she had craved.

He broke off and, resting his forehead against hers and catching his breath, spoke.

"I do believe you've made your point, Nymphadora. Remind me never to doubt you again."

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Feedback is greatly appreciated!**


	11. Toil, Trouble and Scars

**Sorry about the wait; hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Things are most certainly heating up; but don't relax quite yet; we all know that there will be a catch.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Toil, Trouble and Scars

"We can't just sit here and do nothing! This is complete and utter bullsh-"

The final syllable of Sirius' sentence was drowned out by the impact of his fists on the wooden kitchen table. Their glasses jumped up from the surface in fright, falling back down in a clatter. Tonks glanced at Remus, who looked torn.

"Sirius..." Remus began, "We simply cannot do anything about Harry whilst he's at Hogwarts. I know that you're worried for him, but he's safe. Nothing can touch him at Hogwarts, not while Dumbledore's there and you know it."

It had been a few weeks since Harry had contacted his Godfather via the fireplace, and Sirius' anger had grown rapidly. Tonight, it had bubbled over. Tonks was silently glad that he had saved the worst of his anger until the Order meeting had ended, and it was just Remus, Sirius and herself in the dimly lit kitchen.

"That's bollocks, Remus! You think that he's safe when Umbridge is there? The woman's the lowest of the low. How can he be learning defence from her? What happens when the dark arts come knocking on the door? They look in their textbooks?"

Tonks piped up. "Sirius, they'll all be fine-"

"He needs to be here! We're his family!" he roared, his face colouring an angry pink. "I've had to live in the dark for all of his life. Not knowing whether he was safe; not knowing who was after him. I couldn't do anything to keep him safe at all! How is it any different now? Tell me! This is just another prison, and I'll be damned if you can keep me here!"

"Look –"

"No! You can't keep me here like an animal! I'm a free man! An innocent man!"

"We _know_ that. No one's suggesting that you're not. I understand why you feel frustrated, but Dumbledore is keeping you here for your own good. To leave the house and risk being seen would put the entire Order in jeopardy." Remus' voice was growing impatient; they had been trying in vain to calm Sirius down for at least half an hour.

Something in her dark haired cousin seemed to sag and fail, and he slumped forwards in his chair, seemingly defeated for the moment. His curtain of thick hair hung over his face, stringy with what looked to be days without being washed. His eyes had grown bloodshot and the circles around his eyes had deepened and darkened until they looked like bruises. He was a broken man; imprisoned. Tonks didn't know how much longer he could last.

Very slowly, Sirius stood. His legs seemed to wobble, almost unstable. Wordlessly, he left the kitchen. Tonks and Remus let him go, following him with their worried eyes.

When the door had banged shut and the footsteps faded into distant sounds, Tonks spoke. "Should we go after him? He seems pretty pissed off."

"No," Remus dragged a hand over his weary face. "I'll speak to him later. I'm in no mood to put up with this. He's behaving like a spoilt child. Harry is not his best friend. Sirius needs to feel some kind of responsibility for Harry's wellbeing; and his continued safety relies on him being at Hogwarts. It's the safest place for him."

"He was in Azkaban for over a decade, Remus. I'd be pretty angry at the world if that happened to me. And Harry's like a son to him. It's understandable that he misses him. I don't think that we can blame him for acting like a bit of a prat."

"No," Remus agreed, almost reluctantly.

Tonks sighed and stood, making her way around the table. She approached the back of his chair and leaned down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in the firm curve of his shoulder. He felt tense.

"Come on Remus, loosen up. It's Halloween."

Remus let out a small chuckle, but it sounded a little hollow. "Yes," he noted dryly. "Your choice of hair colour hadn't escaped me."

For the spooky occasion, Tonks had worn her hair acid green. She grinned into his neck, feeling the rough scratch of his stubble against her neck. Since their encounter last week, Tonks had found her confidence in their burgeoning relationship growing, and found that teasing him was highly entertaining, especially when he visibly struggled to control himself in her presence. She would win this battle if it killed her; he hadn't kissed her since that first time.

"You ought to be careful, Remus. You know dark creatures prey on negative feelings. At this rate you'll have every ghoul in London knocking on your bedroom door."

She dragged her mouth up to his ear, letting him hear her breathe. She couldn't help it; the lust pulsing through her had grown and grown and grown until it was unbearable; it ruled her. The tension that she needed to dispel; not entirely a sexual energy, more of a hunger for some kind of response from him. She needed him to let himself have what he desired. Now she knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, it was all she could think of.

"Remus?" she asked.

His head turned a fraction towards her, and she chased his lips with hers. He outran her, titling his head back and avoiding contact. She let her head sag against his shoulder, sighing in frustration.

"Kiss me," she told him firmly, trying again to chase his mouth.

"I shouldn't."

"Why not? If you want to; and I most definitely want you to."

He seemed to ponder this for a moment. He gently grasped her wrists, which rested against his chest, and grazed her skin with his warm thumbs, deep in thought. "It's not right. I shouldn't be so selfish. I can't..."

"Shut up, Remus."

His head turned quickly in her direction, and she grinned, taking the opportunity to cover her mouth with his. The prickle of his stubble against the outside of her mouth urged her on, along with his surprised, muffled exclamation against her mouth, which sounded like something between a protest and an appreciation. She leaned further over his shoulder, angling herself into a more comfortable position.

Gently, he drew his face away from hers.

Tonks sighed. "You should be more careful, you could give a girl a complex. It's the green hair isn't it?"

Remus said nothing. His breath came quick and shallow.

The last full moon had passed uneventfully thanks to Jasper's brew of Wolfsbane, and Remus had seemed fully recovered. For a moment though, Tonks was worried for his health.

"You need to calm down, Nymphadora. I've explained numerous times that our situation is not straightforward. This is...highly inappropriate in terms of our positions in the Order. You know, if someone suspected something, we would be assigned new partners. Have you considered what would happen to your job at the Ministry if this was made public?"

"If _what _was made public?" Tonks snapped. "It's not like you're doing anything, is it? From where I'm standing it looks like I'm the one making a fool of myself."

He looked her firmly in the eyes. "That's the last thing I wanted to make you feel."

"Well, you've done a fine job of it nonetheless."

He rose from his chair, the scrape of wood against stone awkward in the silence. He looked for a moment as though he were going to hug her, but seemed to restrain himself at the last minute.

"Sorry," he told her. After what looked like careful deliberation, he took her hand in his and raised it to his mouth, grazing her knuckles with the lightest of kisses.

"Are you?" she wondered. "Or are you saying sorry to placate me because I'm scaring you? You need to tell me if I'm making a fool out of myself. God knows I do it enough."

"If anyone's making a fool of themselves then it's me," he told her quietly.

Tonks gaped. "You? Why?"

"Come on, Nymphadora. Look at yourself; and then look at me. Why would you possibly want someone over a decade older than you without a penny to his name?"

"For goodness sake, Remus!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Do you honestly think that any of those even crossed my mind for the slightest second? If you were thirty years older and twice as poor it wouldn't make any difference."

"You say that now, but-"

"No!" Tonks cut him off, furious. "How dare you even suggest that? I'm not listening to this anymore. It's bloody insulting that you honestly believe I could be so shallow."

"That's not-"

"Shut up Remus, I'm angry at you."

Tonks put all of her rage into making it to the door, needing to get out of the room before she said something she's regret. Her blood felt hot as it pulsed through her; her hands shook slightly with anger.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To see Sirius. He's upset, remember? Don't follow me."

He didn't.

She eventually found Sirius in an old, damp disused bedroom. He hadn't lit any lamps, and was sat next to the drafty window in a battered armchair, slumped low so that she could only really see the back of his head and shoulders, shrouded in stringy black hair. She wondered idly when he had last washed his hair. He hadn't noticed her come in; he was staring out into the closing evening. The red sunset on the horizon cast a peaceful glow across the room, but Tonks knew that her cousin was anything but restful.

"Sirius," she spoke loudly, announcing her presence.

He sighed once, deliberately. "What?"

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"You already have, haven't you?"

She sighed and approached him, ignoring the protests of the creaky floorboards as she went. She perched on the arm of his chair, nudging his elbow off so that she could settle herself more comfortably.

For a few moments, she watched the sunset with him.

"Cheer up, Sirius. You never know; Snape might turn up tonight, and we know what a crowd pleaser he is."

This didn't even pull the slightest of smiles from him, and Tonks cursed her lack of people skills.

"I'm jealous, you know," Sirius stated, keeping his eyes locked forward. Tonks made a small noise of questioning. "Of you and Moony. I'm jealous that you two are allowed to have what I'm being denied every day. It's been so long since I've even flirted with a woman, you know. Let alone been able to..." he broke off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tonks was reminded of Remus a little, and wondered who had picked up the habit from whom.

He looked like a lost little boy. "I like women. A lot. Always have. Apart from James, I'd say that's what I miss the most. It's so simple, and I took it for granted. Just a woman's touch. And now, with you and Remus...You're my cousin and he's my best mate. I'm happy for you, I suppose. But it's just constantly there in my bloody face."

"It's nothing, really," Tonks lied, not sure what to say.

"Yes it is. I've known for quite a while. Nothing to do in this house but watch. I probably knew before you both did."

"Right. Sorry," she mumbled.

"Doesn't matter," he joked. "Maybe Hestia Jones has a sister I can work my irresistible charms on."

Tonks snorted in amusement.

"But it's alright, because if I can't have a lover then I can at least spend my time trying to be a good godfather. Oh wait, no I can't; Harry's not even here because Dumbledore won't let him spend time with his actual family. There's a war coming; does he really need a History of Magic O.W.L? I can teach him whatever he needs to learn to keep himself safe. I just want him here."

Tonks squeezed her cousin's shoulder, feeling the thick muscle which had tensed. Under the emaciated exterior he really was quite strong, inside and out. It was easy to see how he had no trouble attracting women before he went to Azkaban. He seemed to ooze confidence and strength, despite his current state of distress.

"I know," she told him. "Perhaps you can persuade Dumbledore to let him come here for Christmas? I don't know. It can't hurt. We could escort him here."

"He'll say it's too dangerous. I know it. I can't speak to the man anymore; I'll get into trouble if I hex the leader of the resistance."

Tonks chuckled and tried to work the tight knots out of his back with her fingers.

"Ouch! Bloody hell, don't do that, you're no good at it."

"Stop being such a baby, Sirius. I'm trying to get you to relax. I know a charm that'll help if you like-"

"No!" Sirius said quickly, looking frightened.

"Oh, very funny," she said scornfully.

Trapped in a sudden rush of pure affection for her cousin, she swooped down and placed a kiss on his forehead. She felt him rub her back through her robes and felt a little more content that she had at least helped him get some issues off his chest. She saw him as a brother; a piece of family where her own didn't understand.

Sirius looked thoughtfully at her acid green hair. "I know some people have bizarre fetishes but, really, I don't see why Remus has you wearing your hair that colour."

She swatted his arm. "It's for Halloween, you muppet."

"Well, I'm scared," he praised.

"You can talk," Tonks rebutted, taking a lock of his hair gingerly between her fingers. "When was the last time you washed this?"

"It's studied carelessness," Sirius said defensively. "You're not showing a whole lot of respect towards your elder cousin, are you?"

Suddenly, he attacked, tickling her sides vigorously, making her squirm and squeal. She tried to get away from his onslaught. When they finally calmed down, Tonks caught her breath, giggling under her breath.

For a moment, she considered telling Sirius that she and Remus had just quarrelled, but somehow it didn't feel right. For once, the focus was on how Sirius felt, and she didn't know how he would feel if the subject turned to his best friend. She could see, under the years of experience and age, a lost boy who was disowned by his family, vying for some attention.

* * *

_Clunk, clunk, clunk..._

Mad-Eye's wooden leg hit the pavement rhythmically, its echoing beat serving as some kind of ominous march, signalling some approaching destruction. Tonks shivered in the late November air, the tips of her fingers sore and frozen where they peeked out of her fingerless gloves. It was always best to be mobile in her fingers should she need to quickly pull out her wand. The footsteps of her fellow Order members merged into one hollow sound, her own heavy boots lost amongst the din. Everyone was silent; Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Emmeline, Hestia, Remus and herself.

Tonks noticed how Remus stayed a little behind her; close enough so that she could feel his warmth. It felt too close, as she was supposed to be angry with him. Without turning around, she could sense his hand itching to rest at the small of her back as it so often did.

Tonks frowned; she didn't need him to look after her.

Clunk, clunk, clunk...

The tension was palpable; Dedalus Diggle had called for help a short while ago, and they had hasted to answer him. But now, walking along what looked like an ordinary Muggle street, they felt the anxiety mount. What would they find when they entered Dedalus' house? Was this to be their first casualty since the Order reformed?

Tonks swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to not think of Dedalus; a small and cheerful wizard, facing a gaggle of Death Eaters alone. She shook her head and tried to pull herself together; Dedalus could handle himself – he was a formidable wizard.

The small house loomed, and they all picked up their speed, breaking into a hasty jog which carried them the rest of the way to the door. Mad-Eye struggled along behind, muttering curses under his hoarse breath.

The door was hanging off its hinges.

They rushed inside, wands held aloft.

Tonks felt the breath leave her body; her heart stuttering as she was faced with Dedalus' small sitting room.

"Oh," she heard Hestia breathe, her voice distant.

Dedalus was knelt amongst the ruins of what had once been his sofa and dining table. Without his characteristic hat, his head looked curiously small. He was rocking back and forth, cradling an equally tiny woman against his chest. His body wracked with sobs, and Tonks could clearly see the lifeless eyes of the woman he cradled; she was clearly dead.

"Tonks," Mad-Eye called, and she jumped. The wizard indicated to the corner of the room, where a cloaked lump lay, immobile.

She took the hint and carefully trod over the broken glass to the fallen attacker. Dedalus' wails echoed through the room and Tonks felt a sudden wave of hatred for this cloaked wizard. She pulled back the hood, faced with an unfamiliar, harsh face with thick features. Tonks checked his pulse; he was dead. She felt a kind of grim satisfaction that Dedalus had given the attacker what he deserved.

"My wife," Dedalus called, distraught. "Oh, my June!"

"He's dead," Tonks muttered to Mad-Eye. Hestia and Emmeline had knelt next to Dedalus, their eyes wet.

Mad-Eye gave a gruff nod. Tonks sought out Remus' face and found him watching the horrific scene with a grim expression. He had retreated to the other side of the room; unlike him. He was usually the first to offer comfort and a shoulder to cry on. She sighed deeply as Mad-Eye dished out instructions, sending everyone to secure the house and inform Dumbledore of the attack. Mad-Eye, not the best of comforters, bound the body of the attacker and levitated it brutally from the room. Its head lolled onto its shoulder, and Tonks felt sick.

Remus hadn't moved.

She slowly made her way over to him, their quarrel seeming insignificant now. She didn't care about being angry with him; she just wanted him close.

She stood, her shoulder touching his and took his hand. Their robes masked their clasped fingers from the others.

Tonks felt Remus' hand twitch in hers and held on tighter.

"Don't let me go," she told him under her breath.

His hand stilled, then squeezed. "I won't."

She tried to look natural; as though they were simply too colleagues standing side by side. His thumb brushed the skin on the back of her hand and she sighed, wishing that she could get closer to him.

Mad-Eye burst in angrily, with a growl of frustration. Tonks jumped and she and Remus dropped each other's hands quickly.

"Mad-Eye," Tonks hissed, indicating towards the distraught wizard currently cradling his dead wife. "What is it?"

Moody leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's McLean. He worked at the Ministry. One of Scrimgeour's heavyweights. You won't have seen him, Tonks. He doesn't exactly sit around in the office finishing paperwork, I can tell you that."

Tonks gaped. "The Ministry?" she asked, incredulous. "Could he have joined the Death Eaters?"

"I have a sneaking suspicion that's not the case at all," he growled, and left with one last sympathetic glance at Dedalus.

"We're not needed here," Remus told her quietly. "Whatever it is we think we should say to Dedalus, he won't want to hear it. Not right now. I feel an intruder upon his grief."

"Let's go," Tonks urged, tugging on the sleeve of his robes.

Quietly, they removed themselves from Dedalus' house. As soon as they were free from the restrictive security spells, Remus pulled her close and apparated them both.

She scarcely had time to think, because in the split second it took her to get her bearings, Remus had pressed her against the stone, cold wall and covered her mouth with his.

She made a small noise of appreciation and pulled back for air. Her breath came in streams of misty steam which twisted with his and floated off into the atmosphere. Tonks grabbed the labels of his overcoat and tugged him down to her mouth fiercely. It was an apology and a promise and a kiss of absolute, pure adoration and want. His hands, resting against the wall of either side of her head, pinned her steady. Not that she needed any persuasion to stay put.

"Why the change of heart?" she gasped out against his mouth, with a great deal of difficulty.

"Shh," he replied unhelpfully and continued to kiss her, a hand lifting lightly under her chin, holding her head steady as he slowly melted her from the outside in.

She whimpered as he cupped her face oh so gently, tugging her bottom lip between his. Winding her arms around his strong shoulders, she felt every muscle in her bottom clench and unclench with the intensity of the feelings washing through her. She hands fisted against the fabric of his robes.

He was all she felt.

Nothing could touch them, she realised, in this small, cold alley; so dim and dreary, but set on fire with the love with rushed from his lips to hers and back again. She could feel every corner of him and she loved him all; every idiosyncrasy and insecurity. She would go to the end of the earth and fall off, just for him. How could she ever tell him just how much she truly, deeply loved him?

Tonks pulled back and gasped. "I..." her breath caught against the cold night air.

Remus frowned. "Are you alright?" he asked, a little breathless.

Tonks nodded and cleared her throat, her face reddening a little. He brushed the hair back from her face with gentle fingers. His skin felt a little rough, but warm.

She glanced across to Number 12, and asked, "Should we go inside? It's bloody freezing."

He nodded and shifted his weight a little. Tonks noticed that when the weight hit his left leg, a flicker of pain crossed his face. Tonks frowned.

"Are you hurt?" she asked frantically, scanning the folds of his robes as though expecting to find some gaping wound rushing with blood.

He gave his head a short shake, his face tense. "It's nothing. The last transformation wasn't kind on my knee. Don't worry; it's happened before."

"But you had the Wolfsbane last transformation," Tonks frowned in confusion.

"Oh, no, it wasn't inflicted by the wolf," Remus told her, looking unsure about whether he should be mentioning it at all. "When I transform, either into the wolf or back to myself...I shouldn't be telling you this, it's not a pretty thought..."

"No, go on, I'm not squeamish," Tonks reassured, curious.

Well, for the change to happen, my bones have to shift and grow...and, well sometimes the bones aren't always in the most comfortable of positions. This month, I found my knee dislocated-" he noticed Tonks look of pure horror. "Don't worry. Sirius fixed it back. It's just a little sore."

"Get Mad-Eye to kiss it better," she suggested, digging his ribs with her fingers. She had the sudden thought that one of his ribs could also have been dislocated, and stopped her onslaught.

"I have a feeling that that would make the pain infinitely worse," Remus joked dryly.

"You'd have the most vigilant knee in the whole of London, though," Tonks laughed.

"Ah, yes, doesn't pain sharpen the senses?" he pondered thoughtfully, a small smile playing across his lips.

Tonks wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest, muffling her words. "I don't ever want you to be in pain," she told him, but suspected that he hadn't heard anything more than an incoherent mumble. He cupped the back of her head with a large hand and let her hold onto him for a while. His steady heartbeat; a sure sign that he was okay, was comforting to the point that Tonks thought herself able to fall asleep standing against him should she wish to do so.

He whispered against her hand, "I'm still not saying this isn't complicated. I still don't think that I deserve you, and I still think that in this war we should stray from making close bonds. But I can't fight you anymore. If this is truly what you want, then I can't say no to you. Because it's what I want too. Time is so precious..."

"Come on," Tonks told him quietly, and led the way back into the Order Headquarters.

They were immediately ambushed by a worried Sirius. "What happened?" he asked frantically as soon as the ended the dimly lit kitchen. The fire had almost burnt out. "What's going on? No one sent word to me. Who's dead?"

"Dedalus' wife was killed in a struggle. It would seem that the Ministry sent someone round as a scare tactic, but it all went tragically wrong," Remus told his friend grimly.

"Oh, I see," Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. Tonks couldn't be sure, but it looked a little more kempt that the last time she had seen it. "Poor guy."

"Yes," Remus agreed, sitting down at the table. Tonks took a seat next to him.

"It must have been Scrimgeour. Or the Minister himself, even. They're getting desperate now," Tonks supplied. "It's killing them not knowing what Dumbledore's doing."

It would seem that, as in the case of Remus and Tonks, the tension had between Sirius and Remus had disappeared. Times such as this diminished such little quarrels and brought them together. Tonks felt a sort of contentment at once again being with her friends.

When word had been sent that Dedalus was doing well and staying at Hestia's house for the night, and that his wife's body had been removed and Dumbledore informed, Tonks announced that she needed to go.

"I'll go with you," Remus offered. Tonks made to protest. "I don't think, in light of what has happened, it would be wise for any of us to go home alone, do you? Fine Auror or not, we should stick together."

"Right, okay," Tonks gave in. "But if you think you're going to look behind my curtains for me, you've another thing coming."

Sirius snorted in amusement. "Do...attempt to drag yourself home before sunrise, wont you, Moony?"

* * *

"It's nothing special," Tonks told him cautiously, as they entered her rather cramped flat.

Tonks had liked to think of it as an expression of her personality, but to a casual viewer, it probably just looked messy. The small lounge area, which also acted as a dining area, was packed with books, paperwork and the occasional Weird Sisters poster. Some of the older ones were now moving a little sluggishly, while the newer ones bounded cheerfully and sang noiselessly, unaware of the life of entrapment which awaited them.

"It's charming," Remus reassured her, looking a little sheepish. Was he worried she would pounce on him? "Well, I really should be getting back-"

"No!" Tonks protested. "Don't go...erm, stay for a while."

She grabbed the front of his robes and manoeuvred – or rather, manhandled – him until he was sitting on the sofa. She took an old, discarded bra from the floor and shoved it in her pocket, her face colouring. "There, sit. Stay. I'll make us a drink."

He looked a little alarmed.

Brilliant; she had Remus in her flat, and she was practically throwing him around and talking to him like a pet. This wasn't the way she had imagined it, if she was honest. No wonder he wanted to leave.

She crossed to the adjoining kitchen area and put the kettle on, taking two mugs from the cupboard and silently thanking Merlin that she had washed up last night. She clumsily made two cups of tea and piled sugar into both of them; they both liked their tea very sweet. She found some slightly stale biscuits at the back of the shelf.

"Here we go," Tonks put the tea down in front of him, some of it sloshing over the sides and onto the coffee table. She winced and offered him a biscuit, which he took gratefully.

She saw him wince as he took a bite. "Ah, that's...that's quite interesting. What are these?"

Tonks looked at the packet. "They..._were_ digestives."

"I see," he nodded, putting the remaining biscuit down on the table and taking a hefty gulp of tea.

"I'm not really a very good hostess, am I?" Tonks sighed, sitting down next to him.

"Nonsense," he chuckled. "I feel very welcome."

Feeling a little cold, Tonks lit a fire, letting the warmth wash over her and ease her weary bones, hoping that it would do the same for Remus. She drained her own cup of scalding tea and closed her eyes, sighing. A sudden wave of guilt washed over her; could Dedalus have been targeted because she had accidently let something slip which had raised Scrimgeour's suspicions. A sudden flashback to Dedalus and June Diggle, lying on the floor, separated forever, made Tonks want to curse Scrimgeour until he didn't know his own name.

"Come here." Remus hoarse, quiet voice broke through her reverie.

Tonks sighed in gratitude and crawled over to him, wrapping herself around him. He held her tightly. "Whatever it is that you're thinking, don't," he said against the side of her head. "No one is responsible. We all stand together, and we all share the blame and the grief."

She nodded into his neck, the slight growth of beard scratchy against her nose. She placed a kiss against his ear and felt him sigh deeply in response. She wondered in being in her arms did the same for him as being in his arms did for her. She felt safe and relaxed; nothing really mattered because he would be there to help her. It didn't matter if he was an oversensitive git, or if he didn't feel worthy of love, because no matter how he tried to deny it, this was proof that they couldn't live without each other.

She pressed a small, chaste kiss against his lips. He smiled. "I can kiss you whenever I want now," she told him slyly. "If you should just happen to look overwhelmingly handsome whilst giving a report at a meeting, I can just..."

She swallowed his look of horror with a deep kiss, and his hand at her back pulled her closer.

How had this happened so quickly? They had gone from friends to...whatever it was that they were...in a mere few weeks. Was this really it? Was this Remus' surrender? Or should she be prepared for him to call it off out of his own insecurities? Should she trust him not to break her heart? She would willingly give it to him, but how could she know that he wouldn't drop it in some gallant attempt to 'protect' her?

No, he wouldn't. She trusted him.

"Well, in that case," he told her in between small, sweet kisses. "I shall retain the right to storm into the Auror Office whenever I please."

"And stun me, and carry me away?" she asked, smiling against his mouth. "I shouldn't think you'd meet much resistance in a room full of bored Aurors."

"No, I shouldn't think so," he agreed seriously.

She grinned against his skin. "Imagine the look on Mad-Eye's face if he found out that I'd been so unvigilant," she feigned a look a horror.

"I would imagine that he'd burst a blood vessel or two," Remus agreed.

He helped her arrange her legs so that she was straddling his lap more comfortably, but after a few soft kisses, he surprised her by shifting them suddenly, and she found herself being pressed into the cushions, his mouth exploring the contours of her face. She squealed in surprise and delight; Remus wasn't at all, and once encouraged, it would seem that he got rather carried away with himself.

He pulled back and frowned. "It's been two days since Halloween. I'm surprised the green hair is still in effect."

"I was thinking I'd keep it till December and then morph red stripes for Christmas," she waggled her eyebrows in a way which she suspected looked more silly that seductive.

He laughed, and she felt his breath, warm against her face. "You'd deck all the halls."

"Well, 'tis the season to be jolly, after all. Even if it is two months away. There will be none of your grumpy git-Remus act, I hope? Leave your scrooge hat with Kreacher."

"Hmm," he agreed. "You could even morph a white beard."

Tonks blinked. "What does Dumbledore have to do with Christmas?"

He laughed heartily. "No, it's a Muggle story. Father Christmas? Never mind."

"I think you just fancy me with a beard. And green and red hair. It's all coming out tonight, Remu-."

He shut her up with a firm kiss, muffling any protests at being cut off mid-sentence. She wound her fingers into his thick hair, earning a sigh against her mouth. He pushed her more firmly into the cushions of the sofa.

He pulled back, pressed one last sweet kiss against her mouth and sat up. He looked distinctly ruffled and flushed, Tonks noticed with pride. He straightened his robes and little and Tonks watched, not quite having the strength to sit up.

Remus noticed and looked smug. "Sorry. Here," he took her hands and pulled her into a sitting position, flattening her hair down a little.

Tonks cleared her throat in embarrassment. "Thanks."

She looked at him expectantly. Remus shot her an innocent, slightly confused look. "What?" he asked.

"That's it?" she asked. "You're just going to stop kissing me? I'm not impressed."

"I simply don't want to get carried away and prove Sirius right by stumbling back to Grimmauld Place at sunrise," he laughed.

Tonks shuffled closer, snuggling against him. "But I want you to get carried away and stumble back at sunrise," she protested, tickling his ribcage. He squirmed away from her fingers.

Suddenly remembering his injury, she placed a hand gently on his injured knee. It felt a little too warm, even through his trousers, and Tonks winced at how inflamed it must be, having only been dislocated and relocated a few days previously. "Is that sore?" she asked.

"A little, yes," he admitted, "but it will heal, like all things."

She traced a fresh looking scar on the back of his hand. Thin, fair hairs ran from the pale skin of his wrist and disappeared beneath the sleeve of his robes. She remembered the summer, when he would roll the sleeves of his shirts up to the crook of his elbow; how it had made her long to touch him. "And this?" she traced the scar gently.

"It will fade, but never really heal," he admitted, and stopped her with a gentle hand covering hers.

"Does it bother you?" she asked quietly.

"Less than it used to when I was younger. Back in Hogwarts hiding any scars was a difficult feat, but it was necessary, should I wish to avoid any awkward questions. I didn't know then that in time they would fade a little. The oldest scars have almost vanished. But back then, it all seemed so raw and new. I was young and foolish."

She nodded grimly and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, feeling his eyes watch her.

With an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close. She snuggled into him, wondering if she could ever love him anymore than she did. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear; warm and comforting, and she felt her own pulse echo through him; their combined hearts.

"Everyone has scars," she reassured. "They're just the past. No prizes for guessing where most of mine are."

She gave a breathy, incredulous laugh as he pulled her knees onto his lap. She laughed in earnest as she tickled her kneecaps. He threw her a questioning look and she nodded, with a knowing smile. Gently, he pulled up the leg of her jeans, revealing two knees littered with an artwork of scars; some old, some brand new, from where she had fallen over.

He smiled fondly at her. "I thought so."

He pressed one, small kiss to her left knee and tugged her up so that he could kiss her mouth. She went willingly, feeling even closer to him now that they had shared something so intimate.

"I'm too old for you," he whispered in between kisses. "Too poor and too dangerous."

"You know that I don't care."

"You will care," he told her, and Tonks heard the pain in his voice. "One day, you will care."

"Never ever," she replied.

The look he gave her told Tonks that he still didn't believe her, but she knew that he wouldn't fight her either.

She wrapped her arms around him and whispered into his ear, "Don't let me go."

"I won't."

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Please leave feedback!**


	12. Toast, Lightly Charmed

**A little sooner than planned, here's the latest chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Toast, Lightly Charmed

Tonks wasn't unaccustomed to waking up on the sofa. Month after month of intensive Auror training had caused many a weary collapse into the welcoming cushions. When she had first begun her training after leaving school, and Mad-Eye's program was especially tough to weed out those who weren't cut out for the job, she would stumble into her parents' house at midnight and promptly fall asleep on whichever suitable surface presented itself. In fact, she had often been more surprised at waking in her own bed than waking curled into an armchair.

As such, when she opened her eyes and was greeted by the deep purple velvety upholstery of her beloved sofa, she was not surprised.

At least until she felt the slow, steady breathing of a warm body tucked behind her.

Tonks drew in a sharp breath, confused for a moment. The body stirred and grumbled. The sound was unmistakeably Remus.

Her body loosened, and a grin crept up on her. They had fallen asleep, fully clothed on the sofa. Not quite the course of events she had imagined his first night spent at her flat would unfold. Still, she reasoned, simply keeping him there was something of a miracle. He was technically trapped between her body and the back of the sofa, but that was beside the point.

She felt the gentle rise and fall of his restful breathing through her jumper – which had become rather twisted and restrictive. He seemed so calm and still; it was a rarity to see him so peaceful; so without trouble. Though his waking self seemed to be the epitome of coolness and composure, something about him screamed of a life of torment and strife. She couldn't even begin to imagine what years of struggle had done to his self esteem and faith.

Perhaps she could keep him here forever; protect him from the rest of the world?

She remembered standing outside with him, in the backyard of Grimmauld. He had admitted;_ 'I don't talk about things. No one ever asks. But you did, and it helped.'_

How could no one ever have asked? What about his friends in the Order? Was his lycanthrope a taboo even amongst friends? Of course, Sirius would simply accept it as a matter of course. Did that mean that people simply neglected to question Remus' health and state of mind? Did anyone even ask if he was alright?

"I can hear the cogs whirring in there, Nymphadora."

His hoarse voice made her jump. He placed a small kiss against her temple for emphasis and yawned wearily.

"You sneaky git," she grumbled. "How long have you been awake?"

"A little while," he admitted. She heard the click of stiff bones as he shifted a little.

She snorted involuntarily, and then reflected for a few moments that it had probably quashed any notion of romance.

"I wasn't sure where I was," he offered by way of an apology. "I must admit, for a moment I was convinced that I had fallen asleep on an extremely comfortable rock and that you were a slaughtered goat of some kind.

Tonks felt her jaw hit the floor. Had he really just...?

His entire body was quaking with suppressed laughter.

"You complete git, Remus Lupin!" she choked, turning around to face him. His features were screwed up in hearty laughter and she couldn't help but join in with him.

Gently, the laughter died down to small chuckles, and he took her hand in his, drawing it up to his mouth for a kiss. Tonks raised her eyebrows at the gentlemanly gesture and sighed happily. If this wasn't going to last; if there was a chance that he was going to turn into the killjoy version of himself, then she had to make the most if it.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I simply couldn't resist. Of course, you're too fragrant to resemble a goat in the slightest."

Tonks laughed and snuggled closer. Their night's sleep had created a combined pocket of warmth between them, and she found it was becoming increasingly difficult not to drift back to sleep in its comforting embrace, especially as she was well aware of the cold outside. In the early morning light of November, barely peeking through the curtains, the temptation to simply shut the world out was almost overwhelming.

"Are you expected at the Ministry today?" Remus asked.

Tonks eyes snapped open; it was Monday. Bollocks.

"Yes," she sighed, glancing at the clock. It was half past seven. "Not for another hour though," she stated with conviction, snuggling back into his warmth. She felt him chuckle silently and he rubbed her back in deep, firm circles. Why was he trying to make sleep seem so darn appealing? "You're not helping me wake up..."

Her voice came out indistinct and squashed against his warm shoulder.

"I am deeply sorry," he told her, but continued rubbing her back anyway, kneading the muscles which had become so tense during the night. Well, over the past few months in fact. She wouldn't be surprised if during her time at the Order and recently at the Ministry, she had begun to resemble Professor McGonagall more than herself. She even caught herself wearing the same pursed expression from time to time. It more than terrified her that it was the very essence of who she was that was being threatened by this impending war. Especially if war churned out people like the severe professor.

That was one of the things she loved about Remus; he made her forget what she could lose.

Dreary, Tonks asked him, "what colour is my hair, Remus?"

He raised a fair eyebrow, his forehead creasing. "You aren't aware, you mean?"

"It does its own thing while I sleep. What is it?" she asked, curious. She pulled a strand of her hair down and tried to see for herself, but found it was too short for her to see.

"It's a rather normal colour, actually. A little similar to...well, to mine. Minus the grey, of course."

Tonks frowned and summoned a small hand mirror from the bathroom. Examining her reflection, she winced a little at the fact that he had been looking at her all morning; the dull, sandy, mousy brown hair which seemed handsome and soft against Remus' face did her no favours at all. Perhaps she had dreamt of him so much that her hair had imitated his? She looked peaky and almost unwell with the flatness of colour against her pale features. The sentiment of having the same hair colour as Remus was sweet, she supposed, but she would make a conscious effort for it to be a one off incident.

She changed it back to her favourite shade of bubblegum pink, morphed away the tired rings around her eyes, and felt instantly better.

Remus smiled a little wryly. "Much better. I wouldn't wish my hair colour on anyone."

Tonks flushed. "It looked bloody terrible on me," she told him apologetically.

"I can't disagree," he chuckled, and she gave him a playful shove. "Nor can I agree, because looking terrible would be a difficult feat for a witch as pretty as yourself."

"Good save, smooth talker," Tonks snorted, rolling her eyes. "Did Sirius teach you that one?"

"Actually, James always had the monopoly on rubbish chat-up lines. A trait which I sincerely hope Harry has avoided."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were all your invention, Professor Lupin. Under that bookish facade there lurks a cheesy idiot, desperate to break free," Tonks told him knowingly. "Real, studious Professor types don't tease like you do."

"Is that so?" he asked, a smirk playing across his lips.

"It is," she stated, nodding smugly.

"I shall see to it that I work on my studious Professor guise and never tease in the future."

His lips brushed across hers, not kissing properly; most definitely the most teasing gesture she had ever received from Remus. Every time she pressed forward, he would draw back a little, not quite letting her kiss him. Frustrated, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled her mouth to his.

"Git," she muttered against his mouth.

"So you've said," he threw back, kissing her back anyway.

"But really," she broke off with a gasp. He made a small, exasperated noise of protest. "You can't have been the bookish boy in the corner that never put a foot wrong. I don't believe that for one second. I think you're embarrassed of your school days."

"Well, I _was_ a marauder," he admitted.

"A what?" she frowned. He looked a little sheepish.

"A group of foolish boys who didn't know any better. It was what we called ourselves; James, Sirius, myself and...and Peter," Remus explained. He couldn't quite meet her eye, and his cheeks were stained with a blush of embarrassment. Tonks noticed with a pang in her chest that he paled a little at Pettigrew's name. He shook his head, as though swatting away a memory. "We were young and foolish and thought we were the best thing that happened to Hogwarts. If I used a time turner and returned to those days I wouldn't recognise myself. And good thing; who would want to meet such a fool?"

"I would want to meet such a fool," Tonks reprimanded. "I'd want to hear all of those wonderful chat-up lines in their prime. So, what did the self-proclaimed Marauders do that's so cripplingly embarrassing?"

Remus sighed. "We caused mischief mainly. In those days I was so in awe of the concept of having friends that I went along with it. I was even made prefect in the hope that it would give me a little control over them, but still...as I said I was a young fool."

Tonks' interest was piqued; perhaps Remus and she weren't polar opposites after all? "What sort of mischief?" she asked.

He gave her a withering look. "Please don't make me own to it. It was just silly, schoolboy pranks. Mostly aimed at Severus, might I add who may have been the thorn in James and Sirius' eye, but most definitely did not deserve what we subjected him to. It's been one of the biggest regrets of my life that I didn't put a stop to it when I could have."

"But its _Snape_," Tonks protested. "The greasy git must have deserved it. He's a bully-"

"He's a man," Remus cut across her gently, "who feels hurt and rejection, as any of us do."

Tonks felt her cheeks flare a little with shame. "Then he shouldn't be so vile. You need to be compassionate to people for it to be reciprocated."

"Hmm," Remus agreed vaguely.

"You're a wonderful, noble arse of a wizard, Remus," she told him with a fond smile, and he looked pleased.

During the night, his light hair had become ruffled and the dark circles which had been present last night had faded. Tonks slipped her hand inside his robes to feel the warmth of his through the scratchy fabric of his jumper. His ribcage felt sparse in terms of flesh and his waist dipped in dramatically where the soft part of his stomach should have been. If he was this thin at a time when he was eating good, square meals, what was he like when he had to fight for his food? He looked a little self conscious of her wandering hands and she drew herself closer to him to show that she wasn't criticising.

"The transformation takes up a lot of energy," he explained simply. Tonks winced at the thought of his body chewing up its own flesh in order to make way for the wolf. "I don't want pity," he added pointedly.

"I don't pity you," Tonks replied with a frown. "I just wish I could help."

Remus looked a little sceptical.

"And," she continued. "I wish I could have been a witness to this mischievous Remus. Sound's very interesting. We may have even collaborated on a project or two."

"Oh, I should think that our pranks were very far removed from the bat-bogey hexes you would have dished out in your time," he teased. "Back in my day pranks were an art form."

"Is that so?" Tonks asked, her fingers itching towards her wand, where the temptation to show him just what a capable prankster-ess she was. "Well, I can't say that I've seen any evidence whatsoever of-"

Tonks interrupted herself with a gasp at he shifted, his arms sliding firmly around her to tug her on top of him. His hand at the back of her neck pulled her down for a deep kiss. She went willingly, returning the gesture enthusiastically...

Only to have him pull, back and gently shift her to lie back beside him. He gave her one last kiss. "You'll be late for work."

She glanced at the clock on her wall, which was coughing as though to interrupt them. "There's still half an hour," she pointed out.

"Half an hour to shower and dress," he pointed out politely. "I'll leave you to it."

Sighing more deeply, she disentangled herself from both his arms and the embrace of the sofa. Her back protested a little. Remus sat himself up and leaned forward on the sofa, seemingly uncomfortable with hanging around while she went about her morning's routine. With instructions to grab himself something to eat from the cupboard and a promise that she'd only be a few minutes, Tonks set about showering and changing into her deep scarlet work robes.

When she returned, Remus was nowhere to be seen. Had the sneaky git decided to disappear without a word of goodbye?

Her heart lurched as she noticed a small plate sat on her coffee table, with a note attached. Sat in the middle of the plate was a slice of toast, smeared with jam. Her insides melted a little; he had made her breakfast?

Tonks hastily snatched up the note, which was written in his neat writing;

_I solemnly swear that this slice of toast is not a prank._

_I'll see you tonight._

Laughing, Tonks took a bite, pausing for a moment to feel if any changes had occurred. Upon discovering that it was an entirely innocent slice of bread, she laughed even harder, wishing that he hadn't left so that she could snog him senseless for being so witty and thoughtful.

_Ahem..._

Behind her, her grandfather clock gave a loud, pointed cough and she turned around to discover she had five minutes to get into work.

She snatched her cloak and scarf with enthusiastic gusto, juggling the toast between her teeth and fingers.

Even the exasperated sigh of the clock as she slipped and fell on her bottom with a loud thunk couldn't wipe off the stupid grin plastered permanently across her face.

* * *

"Damn it!" Tonks cursed as the quill she was using snapped beneath her fingers. "Knightly, do you have a spare quill I can use?"

The elderly man glanced up at her from a desk which housed an entire quill shop, and said nothing. His eyes lowered back to his report, and Tonks sighed.

"I'll take that as a no," she muttered irritably.

It had been a long day at work, filled predictably with paperwork. Scrimgeour had confined her to her desk until such a time that she admitted she was guilty of conspiring against the ministry, or so it seemed. She noticed that her friends in the Ministry, instead of returning her greetings cheerfully as usual, eyed her warily, as though traitorous behaviour were contagious. Either that or they didn't want to be consorting with someone so deeply under suspicion.

Kingsley, fortunately, had avoided such suspicion, and while Scrimgeour was still obviously wary of his close ties to Dumbledore, his job wasn't threatened as yet. He had even been sent out on a field job, and for the past two days had been staking out in France, where a known murderer and thief was thought to be living. Kingsley was expected back any day now, and for Tonks' part, she couldn't wait for the comforting presence of her fellow Order member; it would be nice to be met with a friendly glance once in a while.

Every day, the urge to stand up on her desk was growing; the urge to scream out that they were all fools and that You-Know-Who was gaining strength while they sat around on their arses.

She sighed deeply and glanced at the clock on her desk; it was half past three. Two and a half more hours of filing parchment and filling in blanks until she could leave and go to the one place where she could make a difference. Her job as an Auror had become a joke; all that training – all that blood, sweat and tears to be undermined and confined to a desk all day every day.

She couldn't even quit; the Order needed her.

As though send from heaven, Kingsley Shacklebolt chose that moment to return to the office, his cloak trailing behind him. The doors crashed shut behind him and Tonks felt a laugh bubble up inside of her at the dramatic entrance. All eyes turned to look at the tall, imposing wizard, and Tonks could feel the reverence. She scowled; it was all so easy when everyone looked up to you.

Scrimgeour, seeming to sense a change amongst the ranks, appeared from the confinement of his office.

"Shacklebolt!" the Head of the Auror Office called, his voice heavy with authority. "My office; immediately."

Tonks was about to turn back to her work, when her boss' voice once again cut through the office. "Tonks, you too."

A sense of dread swept over her. Scrimgeour wanted to see both her and Kingsley? Oh, Merlin.

She imagined this was how it felt to walk to the gallows; all eyes followed her as she made her way across the room. Tonks would have sworn that she could've heard a pin drop. Even Kingsley had dropped his cool momentarily long enough to look petrified.

The door swung shut, and she was left in the dingy head office with Scrimgeour and Kingsley. A silence hung, quivering in the air between them.

"Sir?" Kingsley asked in his deep, soothing voice. "May I ask what this is about?"

Scrimgeour cleared his throat and sat down at his desk, rearranging his papers in front of him. The fireplace roared merrily.

"As the Head of your Department and close colleague of the Minister for Magic, I trust that you understand the importance of loyalty in this particular department-"

"Sir," Tonks began, but he cut across her angrily.

"Do not interrupt me, Tonks!" he growled, his face turning momentarily puce. "You cannot begin to imagine the trouble you two have caused me. You are highly suspected of treason – both of you - and unless you can prove that you are not affiliated with Albus Dumbledore then your jobs and indeed your status as free individuals in the wizarding world is put at jeopardy."

"If I may be so bold, sir," Kingsley asked, his voice even. "What exactly is the ground for these suspicions? I have been on a three day mission, and Tonks is a fine Auror. An asset to the team."

"I am not denying that-"

"Then why, sir?" he continued smoothly. "Surely we haven't failed in our duties in any way?"

"You are both connected with-"

"Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes! Exactly; you do not deny it?"

"Sir, need I remind you that simply being on friendly grounds with the Hogwarts Headmaster is not grounds for suspension. Dumbledore has helped me during many family crises. Not to mention being a great professor. And I happen to know that Tonks was one of his favourite students during her time at school."

"Dumbledore is poison," Scrimgeour stated. "Anyone who is affiliated with him is under suspicion."

"I can tell you quite confidently that I have had no contact with Albus Dumbledore for over a year. Nor has Tonks. There are no grounds for these allegations. Have I been witnessed in the presence of Dumbledore?"

Scrimgeour settled his glassed on the end of his nose. "No you have not."

"Has Tonks?"

The important man's eyes flickered to her face briefly; he looked furious. "She hasn't. But she has displayed suspicious behaviour and it is known that she has frequently consorted with suspicious witches and wizards. Remus Lupin, for one-"

"Lupin?" Kingsley asked sharply, and she saw him glance her way. "I happen to know that Remus Lupin is no more in cahoots with Dumbledore than yourself or Cornelius Fudge himself."

"As I've said," Tonks cut in. "Lupin is an old friend of the family. Other than the task you assigned for me, I've had no contact with the man."

"The werewolf," Scrimgeour corrected, as though she had gotten his name wrong. "Well, if the two of you are truly loyal to the ministry, neither of you will have any qualms about signing this..."

From the pocket of his robes he pulled out two scrolls of parchment. Unfurling them, he said after a small, throat clearing cough; "If you are both true to your word and are in fact loyal to the Ministry, then neither of you will have qualms about signing these. Magically binding contracts that state any unofficial contact you have with Albus Dumbledore will cease immediately and should you break this contract at any time the Ministry will be informed immediately and necessary action will be taken to see that you are punished-" Scrimgeour looked up over the top of his spectacles. "You will be sent to Azkaban for treason."

"This is insulting," Kingsley hissed. "I'm a senior Auror, and Tonks is a new recruit. She doesn't deserve this; neither of us does."

"As I have said," Scrimgeour said smugly. "If you indeed have no contact with Dumbledore then signing the contract will have no effect on you. Unless you have something to hide, Shacklebolt?"

Scrimgeour held out a slick, black quill and it looked like pure evil. Tonks swallowed, feeling completely out of her depth.

As if in slow motion, Kingsley took the quill from Scrimgeour, set the scroll on the desk before him and scribbled his signature at the bottom of the page. Tonks could see the tightness of his jaw as it clenched and unclenched, obviously thinking the same as she; how on earth were they supposed to get around this?

Once finished, Kingsley held out the quill for her. "Tonks," he said pointedly, and Tonks relaxed a little in the knowledge that perhaps Kingsley had a plan.

As she signed her name, Tonks could feel the magic travelling up her arm; binding her.

"Ah, excellent," Scrimgeour looked pleased, and a little relieved. "You may return to work. Tonks, you will be needed on a case in Wales at some point this week. That sounds more exciting than paperwork, doesn't it? You may leave."

"Brilliant," Tonks replied flatly, fixing him with a stare to tell the man in no uncertain terms that he was a greasy bastard.

Kingsley led her out with a gentle, reassuring hand at the crook of her elbow and Tonks sighed, feeling a little cheated. Once out of earshot, Kingsley whispered so quietly in her ear that she barely heard. "Slip out quietly; tell anyone you can what happened so that they can inform the Professor. Don't use owls or the Ministry floo network; they'll be monitoring them both. There are some wizarding shops across the road, I think. You might be able to use their floo. And don't try and contact the Professor directly, obviously. This is a tricky one, Tonks. He'll know what to do."

Tonks nodded, and made to leave the office. Kingsley grabbed her arm before she could get away. "Not yet. Wait for a while so it doesn't look so suspicious."

She gave the tiniest of nods and sat back down at her desk. She saw Kingsley do the same, wringing his hands in agitation. There really was nothing they could have done; if they hadn't signed the contracts, it would have been an omission of their guilt.

After waiting half an hour, Tonks slipped away. She hurried out of the Ministry building, praying that no one noticed her leaving. It was a perfectly normal thing to do; she could have been going for a break. No one would think anything strange about that, surely?

She skulked down the street, towards the small apocathery across the road. Muggles passed it without so much as a passing glance. It was dingy and dirty and heaven knows why anyone would want to buy their potions there, but Tonks reasoned that chances were they wouldn't be in the Ministry's front pocket.

"Your fireplace," Tonks asked her breath sharp with hurry. "May I use it?"

The small, bony woman behind the counter eyed her Auror's robes with suspicion. Her hair hung limp and black against her angular face. She nodded once, briskly and motioned towards the dusty old fireplace behind the counter. "Two galleons," she added hoarsely.

Muttering curses under her breath, Tonks handed over the money into the woman's grubby little hands and barged her way behind the counter. "This is a Ministry matter. Some privacy please," Tonks told the woman.

The woman bore her haggard old teeth and moved to the other side of the room out of ear shot. To be sure, Tonks cast a _muffilato_.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," she muttered, leaning her head into the fireplace and throwing down a pinch of floo powder.

The roar of the flames had never felt so good.

"Tonks?"

Tonks' eyes snapped open and she found Sirius crouching down beside the fireplace, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. She swallowed her nausea and tried to collect herself.

"Sirius, you need to contact Dumbledore to tell him that Kingsley and I have been forced to sign magically binding contracts stating that we have no contact with him at all. If he tried to get in touch with us through owls or floo or anything, they'll know."

Sirius swore under his breath. "Damn them," he muttered angrily. "I knew something like this would happen. They're slimy bastards. And Fudge is just a coward."

"Yes," Tonks agreed. "I don't know how we're going to get out if this."

Tonks heard her voice crack, and Sirius looked alarmed at the possibility of having a crying witches head in his fireplace. Lucky, she heard the kitchen door open, and footsteps as someone entered.

"Nymphadora? What's going on?"

"Oh, Remus!" she sighed, comforted by the sight of his face. He squatted down next to Sirius, his sandy hair now brushed and his robes changed. "I'll explain later. I really can't hang around. I've got to go and act normal..."

Remus held her gaze. "We're with you, all the way," he said firmly. "Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron tonight after work."

Tonks nodded once, swallowed her courage and said her goodbyes. With all her strength, she pulled her head backwards, out of the reach of Sirius and Remus' kind and warm faces, back to the dingy interior of the old apocathery and the shrew of a woman behind the counter.

* * *

As it turned out, Remus wasn't prepared to take any chances. Upon her arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, Tom the Barman took her to one side and told her that he was waiting in the back room. He led her through the packed pub and into a small, warm room with a roaring fireplace. Bookcases lined the walls, and cobwebs adorned the ceiling. She noticed Tom's spare set of robes draped over the arm of a chair and felt mildly uncomfortable; even more so when she noticed the set of false teeth chattering away in a jar of stagnant water.

But her attention was caught, and any discomfort chased away by the sight of Remus waiting for her. He looked a little bashful, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his robes.

"Merlin, Remus," she croaked, stumbling forwards. He caught her tightly, holding her close.

"I heard what happened," he mumbled into the flesh of her neck. "We informed Dumbledore immediately. He's going to be at the meeting tonight to inform everyone of the plan. Then we'll pass the message onto to you and Kingsley. I had intended to meet you here for a drink before the meeting, but it looks like we'll be here all night; you're going to need to avoid Dumbledore at all costs. It's the only way, until this whole thing is sorted out."

Tonks nodded against his shoulder. She understood, but didn't want to talk about it anymore; her mind had mulled it over all day.

He planted a small kiss against her temple and rubbed soothing circles against her back, imitating the gesture from that morning. How long ago it seemed, when they had joked and laughed. So many troubles had been piled onto them since then. Did they ever go through a day when a new problem wasn't handed to them?

"Can we go back to this morning, and never get off the sofa? Please?" she asked, her voice tired.

He laughed a little. "That sounds like an excellent plan."

"I feel so vulnerable without Dumbledore. I know I don't see him very often but he's the one man who knows exactly what's going on, and I can't contact him, even if I need to."

"He'll do his upmost to see that you and Kingsley are contacted when you need to be, and that your voices are heard."

"I know," she admitted, relaxing further into his arms.

She drew back to look at his face; the deep circles around his eyes, which she had noticed had lessened over the previous night, were back with a vengeance. Gently, she traced them with her finger, noticing that his eyes dropped a little self consciously. She let her hand rest in the hollow of his cheek, feeling the freshly shaven, smooth flesh of his cheek; obviously his morning had been light and unhurried. She felt a small rush of pride that perhaps she lifted his spirits, at least for a morning.

"We have to stay here all evening?" she mused, casting her eyes around the dingy room.

Remus looked wary. "We can wander around Diagon Alley for a while, if you like. But you'll need to be in disguise."

The thought of being someone else for the night made her shudder; she didn't think she even had the energy to maintain such a morph. She disentangled herself from Remus.

Crossing over to the window at the far end of the room, she peered out into Muggle London. Night had fallen, and people passed the window, oblivious to her presence; oblivious to an entire world that was happening right under their noses.

Remus came up behind her, and Tonks could feel his uncertainty.

"What did they think of you staying with me all evening?" Tonks asked, curious. "Was anyone suspicious?"

Remus was silent for a moment, before saying, "I don't think so. Molly gave me a slightly raised eyebrow, but she always was too observant for her own good. In fact, it was she who suggested I keep you company. I suspect it has something to do with an ingenious motherly plan to bring the two of us closer together."

He wrapped his arms securely around her waist, and Tonks saw them both reflected in the glass. Her bright hair shone out the most, contrasting with her worried, pale face. Remus wore a slight frown as he did the same as she and examined her reflection. Gently, he pressed a kiss against the side of her face, and for a brief moment Tonks would have sworn she saw tears well up in the eyes of reflected-Remus.

The door opened, breaking the moment. They turned with exasperated expressions to watch as Tom shuffled in with two hot chocolates. He set the tray down, humming to himself, blissfully unaware what he had interrupted. Gently, Remus released her and crossed over to the bumbling barman to help him unload the tray of its mugs and plates of biscuits. Tonks' stomach hummed in longing; she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"Wotcher, Tom," she muttered. "Thanks."

"Not a problem, Miss Tonks," Tom grinned up to her, his hunched back giving her at least a foot on him.

At a painstaking pace, Tom drew out a bag of marshmallows from the pocket of his robes and placed them infuriatingly precisely in each drink. Once satisfied with his effort, he added a dollop of cream to each of them. Tonks could feel Remus practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with impatience.

"Thank you, Tom," he hinted. "That looks lovely."

Remus made to take the delicious looking beverage, but Tom stopped him with a brisk slap to the hand. Remus looked amazed and a little offended, and Tonks stifled a giggle.

With the same precision, Tom sprinkled a helping of chocolate shavings on each of the drinks, measuring out the doses equally. Tonks saw Remus run a weary hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Now for the cinnamon-" Tom announced, and Tonks couldn't help herself, bursting out into fits of laughter.

Remus joined in, his laughter silent but helpless. Tom, oblivious to their hilarity, applied a carefully measured sprinkle of cinnamon, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Tonks leant into Remus, muffling her laughter into his jumper, feeling his own quakes of mirth as they gripped his chest.

"Enjoy your drinks," Tom told them proudly.

They pulled themselves together enough to thank the barman as he shuffled out. Tonks, her mood lifted, gave Remus an affectionate peck on the cheek and took her drink, eagerly woofing a chocolate biscuit down as though she hadn't eaten for a week. It wasn't nearly enough, and made her feel a little queasy, but it would do.

Remus noticed, and watched her over the rim of his mug. "I could ask Tom to bring you a chicken pie if you're hungry?" he suggested.

"I'll be fine," she assured him, wary of how much money she had in her pockets, and not wanting him to feel as though he had to spend precious galleons to feed her. "He'd probably feel it necessary to slaughter the chicken in front of us and roll the pastry in front of us."

Remus gave a silent chuckle.

She took a heart sip of hot chocolate, letting it warm her through. She perched herself on a battered old armchair, mindful of spilling anything on Tom's robes, where they were flung over the plush arm. Remus drained his cup and set it down, taking a biscuit for himself. The way he devoured it told her that he was just as hungry as she was.

"Can't we go back to my flat?" she complained.

Remus looked apologetic. "I've told Arthur to send word here. They might be watching any owls you sent to your home address."

Tonks sighed, wanting the comfort of her own home.

He crossed over to her, crouching down before her so that he his gaze was level with hers. She noticed he did that a lot; perhaps he wanted to let her know that he was sincere when he spoke to her. Or perhaps he sensed just how safe it made her feel?

"Oh, Remus," she sighed, putting her mug down and cupping his angular face in her palms. He smiled a little. "What would I do without you?"

He smirked. "Get yourself into a lot of trouble, no doubt."

"Right," she snorted, "because you're such a good influence."

"As a matter of fact, I am," Remus corrected her playfully. "You wouldn't have eaten all day if I hadn't thought to make you breakfast."

"Sorry, _Molly_, I'm too busy with important Aurorly duties."

He chuckled, and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. He tasted of chocolate, and Tonks moaned into his mouth, tugging his bottom lip between hers and nipping playfully. He seemed to appreciate it, pulling her towards him with a strong hand against her back. He shifted to kneel between her legs, and Tonks broke away from his mouth to trail warm kiss across his face. He let out a puff of laughter when she reached the junction of his neck.

"Ticklish?" she asked slyly, scraping her teeth over his skin. He drew a shaky breath.

"No more than you," he pointed out, running a teasing hand over her scarred knee. The pressure through her robes made her giggle and squirm.

"Watch it, Lupin. Tickling an Auror is a punishable offence."

He raised an eyebrow, but before he could voice whatever suggestive remark was on the tip of his tongue, a series of taps at the window made them look up. Perched on the ledge of the window was a smart looking grey bird. He was shivering a little in the rain, and they immediately jumped up to let the bird in.

"That's Hestia's owl," Remus noted.

Together they unfurled the scroll. Hestia Jones' writing was small and cramped.

_Remus,_

_The Professor has decided that the best course of action for now is for Tonks and Kingsley to avoid direct contact with him, as they have been doing this evening. He says he will try to find a loophole in the contract, but for now he can't do anything. He asked me to mention to Tonks that she is still a valuable member of the Order and that her opinions and contributions are in no way diminished by what has happened._

_He also would like to add that although writing to Tonks in person may break the contract and alert the Ministry, he will do his upmost to keep in contact with her by whatever means he can. He is not expected at another meeting until well after Christmas, so she and Kingsley can attend without worry until then._

_Also, I couldn't risk addressing this to Tonks directly; we do not know the boundaries of the contract as of yet. It is likely that we will have to stop using owls in the near future._

_As of tonight, you and Tonks are no longer partners. Dumbledore feels the risk is too great and you've been noticed together. Tonks will work with Kingsley, and you with Emmeline.  
_

_Sorry this had to come through me, _

_Hestia._

_P.S. Molly says she has a hot meal waiting for the both of you._

Tonks sighed a little in relief; her duties at the Order would not suffer. Silently, Remus destroyed the message. It burst into green flames which chewed up the parchment quickly. He put an arm around her, drawing her closer. She could feel the tension in him ease; the knots in his shoulders were slowly unfurling, and his breath seemed a little more easy and controlled. But she and Remus weren't partners anymore? A wave of sadness crossed over her; the end of an era.

But perhaps, the start of a new one?

"Well, that's that," Tonks said, not quite sure what to feel.

"Yes," Remus replied, sounding a little unsure. "We best hurry; who are we to deny Molly to pleasure of fattening us both up?"

* * *

**Feedback is appreciated!**


	13. No Other Love

**Happy Holidays, everyone! I wish you all a Merry Christmas, and as I gift, I give you a nice long installment! Hopefully there will be a more festive chapter published before the big day itself, but this should tide you over until then. Please note that as things are getting chilly outside, this story is hotting up. Happy reading! Thank you to anyone who has reviewed; they are truly lovely and they keep me writing. Also big thanks to anyone who has been following the story. And to any newcomers; stick around!**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: No Other Love

"Now, eat that up, dears. Goodness knows you both need some meat on your bones. Especially in this weather. Winter will be in full force before you know it. I always tell Ginny and the boys that they should eat double portions in the winter, but do they listen? There, Remus dear, I've put you an extra helping of stew; don't think I haven't noticed your robes hanging looser than usual."

Molly Weasley, Tonks mused, would never tire of mothering the entire wizarding world. And from Tonks' point of view, this would never cease to be a good thing.

The red-haired woman ladled humongous helpings of beef stew, potatoes and bright, juicy vegetables onto massive plates, before handing it to Remus and Tonks with an accompanying stare which dared them both to even consider not finishing it. Tonks' arms sagged a little under the weight of the outlandish supper, and Remus quickly intervened with a quick, firm hand under the plate, with which he helped her guide it safely down to the table.

"Of course, it would have been nice to all eat together, but of course these new rules where Tonks and Kingsley can't attend when Dumbledore is here..."

Molly pursed her lips in clear disapproval of the situation at hand. "It's simply awful, dear. How you must feel to be kept at one side."

"I'm just glad to still be here," Tonks admitted. "This is great, Molly. Really tasty!"

It was a blatant attempt to swerve the conversation in a new direction, but Molly wasn't taken in.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm glad you like it Tonks, dear. Of course I told him, I told Dumbledore that he must find a loophole as soon as possible."

"And what was his response?" Remus asked quietly, tucking into his own food.

"Oh, he said that he'd try, of course. In fact he implied that he had more important things to do. Well, I suppose as long as he's keeping Harry safe we shall have to deal with it as best we can. Honestly, though, I do wish he wouldn't keep us so in the dark."

"He knows what's best," Remus reassured her gently.

Hungry and not in the mood to talk until she had abolished said hunger, Tonks shovelled food into her mouth in what was most probably a less-than dignified manner. Molly watched her with fond eyes, and Tonks wondered briefly if she had been taken on as a replacement-Weasley child in the absence of her Molly's own children.

"It's nice to see a young girl with a healthy appetite," Molly noted, setting about piling a new load of food onto Remus' half-cleared plate. He looked a little frightened at the amount, but said nothing; out of politeness, Tonks assumed. "You see all these witches running around Diagon Alley with hardly a stitch of clothes on them and no meat on their bones. It's a wonder they're not all holed up in St Mungos with the flu."

"I thought you don't like how I dress," Tonks commented with a sly grin.

Molly sniffed. "It's not that I don't think your complexion would benefit from some more...muted colours. But at least you know when it's too cold be to wearing a tiny little skirt and vest."

"Oh, I daresay she'll arrive tomorrow in the scantest outfit she owns, simply to prove you wrong, Molly," Remus commented.

Tonks aimed an elbow in a quick dig to his ribs. He coughed and choked on his mouthful of food, leaving a horrified Tonks to pat his back firmly, her face colouring in embarrassment. She had nearly killed him; brilliant.

Molly sighed, ignoring them and staring off into the distance. They were alone in the kitchen, with Sirius having retired to bed a short while ago. They had apparated back to Grimmauld Place from the Leaky Cauldron once the word had been sent that Dumbledore had left. "I do wish I could see them every day," Molly sighed. "It's almost cruel how we don't see our children growing for most of their lives. But still, Hogwarts is the best place for them. You just wonder sometimes, how much precious time you have left..."

Tonks found Remus' little finger under the table, and laced her own around it.

Suddenly, Molly snapped out of her thoughtful haze. "Remus, do you need any new clothes for the cold weather? I don't like the look of those holes in that jumper. The cold seeps in, you know. And your body really must be kept warm during all of these nights spent on patrol. I wouldn't have you struggling for decent clothes for anything in the world. Give me a few weeks, and I can have a set of new jumpers all ready for you."

"Molly," Remus cut across her. "Really, I'm fine. But thank you."

Molly looked a little put out, and ran a hand through her fiery, flyaway hair. "Alright," Molly sighed, pointing a small finger at him. "But don't think you're getting away with not accepting a Christmas gift. Heaven knows you've done enough for the children to warrant a little something to say thank you."

Tonks could feel the modesty taking a hold of him, a blush creeping upwards from the neck of his jumper. "Thank you, Molly. And I wouldn't dream of stopping you from giving me what I know will be a wonderful and thoughtful gift."

"That's alright then," Molly said, looking pleased. "More stew, Tonks?"

"No, thanks Molly, I'm full to the brim. It was great though. I can't thank you enough; I've been starving all day."

"It's no bother," Molly batted away the compliment. "More potatoes, Remus?"

"N-" Remus was saved the bother of refusing; she dished two more large boiled potatoes onto his plate.

Tonks thought she heard him sigh a little, but he tucked in obligingly regardless.

_C_rash!

"YOU FOUL LITTLE GIT, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW! HOW DARE YOU?"

"What on earth?" Molly breathed, holding a hand over her heart in shock as Sirius' voice boomed out, projected by anger from the hallway above. The sound of loud footsteps grew stronger, accompanied by low thumps and crashes. Walberga Black woke from her portrait, shrieking obscenities.

The three of them rushed from the kitchen, their footsteps in tandem with the loud crashing, banging and bellowed curses.

Tonks felt the bile rise in the throat; Kreacher lay at the bottom of the stairs, his old, fragile body slightly twisted. Sirius stood on the third step from the bottom, his face boiling with blood and rage. His breath came in ragged, sharp beats which shattered through his wiry chest. His hair hung in matted clumps around his face. He was staring at the old house elf with the upmost revulsion.

"Sirius!" Remus said loudly. "What's going on?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "I found this cretin going through my personal things. My photographs...my photographs from Hogwarts and..."

Remus was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed his friend.

"Master is polluting his mother's house with pictures of blood traitors, no wonder they died, filthy scum..."

"SHUT UP!" With an enraged flick of his wand, Kreacher flew into the wall, his small bones hitting the barrier with a sickening thud.

Tonks felt her heart, stop and darted over to her cousin to help Remus wrestle the wand from him. He put up a fight, struggling and kicking out at anything which presented itself, his rage bubbling over. She met Remus' eyes as they held him still and prised the wand from his grip, and an unspoken understanding passed through them; if they didn't stop him, Kreacher would die.

Molly stood, frozen and shocked, her eyes watery as she stared at the twitching house elf.

Sirius sagged in their grasp, his eyes finding the tiny, limp body against the wall. His face paled, and he began to shake. Remus pulled his friend closer, holding him as the shock of what happened set in and the blood ran cold in his veins.

Suddenly, Sirius broke free of them both, pushing them away. "No," he cried, his voice hoarse with regret. "No, get up. I said, get up!"

He went over to Kreacher, crouched down and took a tiny elbow in his grip, pulling the small elf up slightly. He buckled, his little knees shaking and his face pale save for the bruise blooming on the side of his forehead. His large, bulging eyes blinked once, twice, and then came into focus. He pulled away from his master with a surprisingly strong twist and picked up the dirty rag which had gotten away from him during the incident.

Muttering under his breath, limping slightly, Kreacher left as though nothing had happened. In the silence, Mrs Black wailed on, all of them too shocked to do anything to stop her.

"Sirius..." Molly began her tone stern.

"Don't, Molly. Just don't."

And with that, he stormed off back up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. Remus winced as each angry bang pierced through the silence, increasing the intensity of Mrs Black's screams. Remus shut the curtains over the portrait, leaving only the shocked silence.

Sirius had certainly manhandled the sly elf on more than one occasion; but this was something else. This had been cruel and brutal, despite how he was provoked. Tonks didn't know how long her cousin could continue to live like this without cracking completely.

Remus cursed under his breath, rubbing a hand over his weary face.

"Are you going to go after him?" Tonks asked quietly, sinking down to sit on the step next to him.

Molly, wringing her hands in her apron, followed the path that Kreacher had just taken, her dislike for the elf apparently silenced for the present by her naturally protective instinct to mother and care. Tonks could see the urge to treat Kreacher's bruise bubbling restlessly under the older witches skin, impossible to resist. Once she was out of sight, and her gentle voice could be heard in tandem with Kreacher's vocal protests against her attentions, Tonks turned towards Remus.

His face was closer than she had expected, and he rested his forehead against hers gently, the warmth of his breath running over her skin. For a moment, she was restful, and content to enjoy him in such close, intimate proximity. The danger of it all; the fact that Molly could walk in at any moment, only made it more intoxicating and dangerous. The urge to tilt her head back just that tiny bit and let his lips graze hers was overwhelming. He was addictive.

Snapping out of her sudden haze, she kissed him quickly on the nose. "Go and talk to Sirius," she told him decisively.

Remus sighed, his face not dissimilar to someone who had just been ordered to eat a flobberworm. Obviously Remus feared dealing with Sirius in this state, and while it was obvious to Tonks that the soothing presence of his best friend was what Sirius would need, it clearly wasn't something which Remus revelled in. He looked, for a moment, like a schoolboy; afraid to stand up to his more dominant friend. His forehead crinkled with worry, and Tonks linked her arm through his, squeezing the tense muscle beneath his robes. He smiled a little, and the Remus she knew was back; calm, fearless and gentle.

"There you are," she breathed, unable to restrain herself.

He looked perplexed. "I've been somewhere?"

She giggled and offered no further explanation. "You can't keep putting this off forever, Remus. You and Sirius need a good, _proper_ heart to heart."

Remus looked flabbergasted. He cleared his throat.

"Surely you've talked like that before?" she asked, prompting him.

"Well," he began, his face almost disbelieving as she forced him to confront the truth. "No, we haven't. Sirius was never very vocal about his feelings, even to James. I've always known what he was feeling simply by reading his behaviour. I think he sees it as a weakness."

Tonks couldn't believe it; in fact, she had had a perfectly substantial conversation with her cousin about his anxieties a short while ago.

"He never asks me about the, ah, _furry little problem_, and I return the favour and leave him to his privacy...It's always been an unspoken agreement..."

He saw Tonks' look of disbelief and continued hastily; "We know what the other is thinking though. Or we can approximate. It's really never been a necessity to converse like that. We just get on with it; we always have."

"I can't believe it; a sensitive bloke like you. I would've thought..."

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not exactly something that men are comfortable with."

"You talk to me about your feelings sometimes," she pointed out.

"Yes, but...that's different. And it's not exactly a regular occurrence, need I remind you," he said, sounding a little exasperated.

Tonks pursed her lips and fought against the wave of anger which bubbled in her stomach in response to his infuriating pride.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know you're only trying to help."

With his thumb, he smoothed away the worry lines from her forehead, and gently lifted the corner of her mouth into a vague smile. She took over from him and smiled genuinely, her fondness of him washing over her and forgiving everything. One day, she mused, she would regret his aptitude to make her forgive him for everything.

"I'll go and speak to him," he decided quietly, but Tonks suspected it was simply to appease her.

She nodded and he rose to his feet, careful of the newly sleeping Mrs Black, and ascended the stairs. He smiled down at her, still sat on the stair, her legs curled up to her chest. She wondered how far he would go to please her, and whether this power that they held over each other was a good thing. If it was true what people said, and they really shouldn't be forming such an intense relationship in the midst of a war, then what would become of them if they fell apart?

How could they ever go back to being happy without each other?

She even feared the full moon now; a true, genuine terror when she saw it in the sky.

Something had shifted, and her axis was him.

* * *

It was officially December. All over the country, snow had started to fall, blanketing the fields and rooftops with an icing of deceptively beautiful ice. With the coming of the month, shops had begun to bring out their Christmas merchandise and decorations, and carols sounded out from open doorways. Tonks loved the snow, and couldn't be happier that it had graced the country with its presence.

Except Wales. Wales had opted for rain. A lot of rain. This became extremely apparent as she trudged over the bogged field, her boots collecting so much mud she was certain they would be ruined. Really, had Scrimgeour honestly expected her to be grateful of this gruelling joke of an assignment? She found herself longing for the gentle covering of snow which had crunched underfoot outside her flat this morning, before she had set off and headed out to work. At least the snow didn't crust over her trousers (muggle jeans, as she had had to blend in with the surroundings).

A clap of thunder rumbled through the clouds and Tonks shivered, the tiny black dot that was the hut she was heading for never seeming so far away. She couldn't apparate any further than the edge of the huge field a half mile back; someone had blocked it. Another fact that Scrimgeour had neglected to mention.

She began wishing all sorts of ills upon her boss, and picked up the pace, her feet sliding under the unsteady ground. Sink, lift, and tug. Each step worked her legs more than she could take. The wind picked up, splashing the fine water into her eyes, and she sighed, wondering if things could get any more miserable.

She was somewhere nice, she told herself, retreating into her mind and letting her feet move mechanically.

She was putting up the Christmas tree with her Mum and Dad.

She was sitting by the fireplace with Remus.

Anywhere else.

She thought longingly of the broom sitting in her lounge, propped up against the sofa. How she wished she had thought to bring it along.

Something about the small shack in the distance made her blood run cold; what exactly was she heading into? All she had been told was that two other Aurors were on patrol watching the shack for suspicious activity. A wizard was supposedly hiding out there after being on the run from the Ministry for over two years. Looking around at the flat, empty field Tonks found it hard to believe that any Aurors were able to hide out there.

Her legs worked quicker, pushed on by the exhausted adrenaline which made its way sluggishly through her body. Just a few more minutes, and she'd be there. Just a few.

She was with Remus, wrapped in the safe embrace of the fire with a warm cup of tea pressed into her palms.

It was approaching; her destination. Just a few more steps.

"TONKS, NO! MOVE! DON'T-"

She whipped around at the desperate call which came, carried by the wind and rain. Someone was running towards her; a blurred, dark shape in the rain. Instinctively, she stumbled away, hoping against all hopes that it wasn't a trick. Her hand grabbed for the handle of her wand, her fingers feeling useless and numb.

"NO, NO, NO! COME BACK THIS WAY!"

The call was the most desperate, fearful cry she had ever heard, screamed over the roar of the rain.

Her feet slipped on the mud and she landed on her bottom with a wet splash. She sent out a _stupefy_, but it got swallowed by the rain. She was being hauled up by her shoulders, and pulled against a safe, solid chest clad in soaking wet robes. Her feet were being urged to run with the person, as she was rushed away.

"Tonks, it's a trap," said a voice, and she looked up into the face of Kingsley. His eyes darted wildly back at the shack, which was shaking in the wind.

Quite suddenly, the whole, rickety little building went up in green flames, roaring up against the rain, turning anything which dared to go near it into smoke. She felt it burn at her skin and closed her eyes, turning her face away as she ran with Kingsley, away from the unbearable heat of the explosion. Her stomach heaved; she could've been in there.

As soon as the blistering heat gave way to the cooling rain, Tonks' legs gave way under her, and she slid onto the damp earth, grabbing a handful of Kingsley's robes. He stopped, also gasping for breath, his eyes reflecting the green, glowing ruins of what could've been their deaths. Tonks gasped in the damp air, resisting the urge to lie down and let the cool mud soothe her.

He sat down next to her, his dark skin shining with rain and sweat. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said breathlessly. "I should've known sooner. Before you left."

"What...what happened?" Tonks gasped her chest tight.

She saw Kingsley's face grow dark. "Scrimgeour told me at the last moment that there had been word sent; you were heading into a trap. We had no way to tell you."

"So, the bastard _wanted_ me to die?" Tonks spat out, her mouth dry and her heart pounding.

Kingsley said nothing.

"Is this what we've become?" Tonks asked angrily, her voice penetrating the thick, damp air. "An inconvenience that needs to be bloody _blown up_? The Ministry wants me to be ash and dust and a bloody name on a wall of Aurors who died in the name of serving the Wizarding World?"

"Tonks, calm down," Kingsley soothed, his panic giving way to his instinct to calm and protect.

"No, I won't!" Tonks screamed. "I could be dead! I could be in pieces so small they wouldn't find all of me!"

That was enough; her stomach heaved with shock, the image of what could have happened flashing through her head. Thinking about her parents having to identify a mangled section of her face. Or worse still, having nothing to bury; nothing to prove that she even existed. Never having said goodbye to Remus, or Sirius, or Molly.

Kingsley rested a large hand between her shoulder blades as she emptied her stomach onto the wet grass. Her skin broke out into a clammy sweat, her flesh sweltering with feverish heat in the cold air. Behind them, the fire raged on, barely a memory now. Again and again her body tried to purge itself of the shock and disgust. Her body racked with shivers.

"You're going into shock," Kingsley said suddenly. His voice sounded distant. "I'm getting you back to the Ministry."

"No," Tonks gasped out. "Not there. Anywhere but there. Take me to Headquarters. Please?"

Kingsley was quiet for a moment, and then agreed, hauling to her feet roughly, with all the bravado of a senior Auror training a pupil. Tonks was glad; she didn't need anyone to be nice to her. She would crumble; she needed rough orders and minimal sympathy.

They stumbled back towards the edge of the field, which seemed to last forever. Her stomach continued to contract, but there was nothing left inside her, so her body clutched itself in huge, gagging waves, her head spinning. Kingsley was grabbing at the scruff of her robes, his breath panicked and urgent. Her lack of consciousness made time speed up; every time she blinked they seemed to have moved ten more paces.

The rickety fence was in sight now. And it was as though Remus were standing by it, urging her forward. She needed him.

Kingsley dragged her up over the splintered wood, grunting a little with the effort. He gripped her arm tightly and the breath was squeezed from her as they apparated.

The world went bright; her eyes squinted in the brilliant light reflected from the snow around them. Tonks let herself calm a little, still shaking. They were in front of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Sun glistened on the ice, and they stumbled up the steps, Kingsley fiddling with the lock and letting them in, the dingy hallway seeming pitch black in contrast to the brightness outside. Tonks heaved in a sigh of relief.

There was a light up the stairs, coming from the drawing room, and Tonks followed it on unsteady legs. Kingsley followed close behind, and Tonks could sense how dubious he was about her ability to ascend the stairs without hurting herself.

Tonks pushed the door open, greeted by the sight of Remus deep in a book, reading by firelight, and Sirius lolling lazily on the sofa. Both jumped up as they saw her; covered in mud and dripping over the wooden floor.

"What happened?" Remus demanded, walking over to her.

He took her in his arms, pulling her tightly against his clean, warm jumper, mindless of the people watching or the fact that her clothes were dripping with mud. She calmed, clinging to his strong shoulders. She could feel Sirius and Kingsley watching them; she had heard the sharp intake of her fellow Auror from the doorway behind her.

"Scrimgeour sent her on a surveillance job in Wales. It turned out to be a trap set up by the wizard we've been searching for for several months. He failed to mention this to me until the last moment. She was lucky to have missed the explosion."

Tonks felt Remus tense, his grip on her tightening.

Tonks snorted. "Lucky," she spat, feeling malicious. "Right."

"You could be dead," Remus reminded her curtly. "And it would be the ministry's fault. This is ridiculous. It's not them that we're supposed to fear. How has a niggling suspicion suddenly turned so desperate?"

"I think Scrimgeour sent me to save her in the hope that I might have been caught up in it too. It was a long shot, but there's nothing to implicate him. Of course we know why he did it, but he'll deny it outright if challenged, and Fudge won't ask any questions. I've known the man for years, and I never thought he would stoop so low. I honestly never..."

"You weren't to know," Sirius said weakly, his voice shocked.

"This changes things," Remus said quietly, still not letting go of her.

"It all seems so much more sinister now," Kingsley agreed.

"Dumbledore needs to know," Sirius said grimly. "I'll go and..."

Trailing off, he wandered out of the room, leaving only the uncomfortable presence of Kingsley. Reluctantly, Tonks disentangled herself from Remus, turning to face the tall, dark Auror. His robes were caked in mud like hers.

"Thank you, Kingsley, thanks for finding me. I can't ever tell you how grateful I am."

She rushed over to him, flinging herself into his arms and squeezing, feeling a rush of affection towards the man. He probably thought she was mad, but she didn't care. She just wanted to weep with joy that she was still alive. He chuckled deeply, awkwardly patting her on the back. "I'm just glad I got there in time," he soothed, gently prising her off him.

"You could have been killed," Tonks whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

"I wasn't. Neither of us was. Let them put that in their pipes and smoke it. I can't wait to walk in to that office and see the look on his face. You're still in shock," he told her with a small smile. "Try and get something warm to drink and sleep it off. Rest. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't worry about work; I'll cover for you."

"I wasn't worried about work," Tonks muttered under her breath. "And you nearly died too."

With a final chuckle, a goodbye, and one last curious glance towards Remus, Kingsley left, leaving them alone. Tonks gravitated towards Remus like a magnet, her mouth finding his desperately. He grasped her with strong hands, and for her part she didn't relinquish her grip on the front of his jumper. She didn't care that she was muddy and that she was messing up what looked like a new jumper; she didn't care one bit. And judging by the way he was kissing her back neither did he. His mouth opened against hers, hot and soft, and he made a small noise at the back of his throat, dragging an answering whimper from her.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. His breath quickened. "We're getting carried away," he told her.

"Good. I could've never seen you again," she whispered, chasing his mouth with hers. He allowed her a long, sweet kiss. "I could be gone."

"But you're not," he whispered against her cheek, his breath hot as he dragged his mouth up to her ear. "You're here. You're with me."

"Yes," she whimpered, kissing any part of him she could reach. A thought occurred to her. "Don't I taste awful?"

He laughed; a genuine laughter. She saw love in his eyes. No; it was more than that. It was something closer to adoration.

"That wasn't the most romantic of things to say, was it?"

"Probably not," he chuckled, brushing a hand through her stiff, encrusted hair. "What say we clean you up?"

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea," Tonks agreed, grimacing as she examined her hands; dry and split, dried stiff with earth that stayed in the creases of her knuckles.

He led her to the cleanest bathroom in the house. A claw-footed bath stood in the centre, rusty but mostly clean. The blotchy mirrors showed her the truth; her face was so pale it was almost green, and splashes of mud tarnished her features. Her hands shook and she saw him approach behind her, reaching down to turn the bath on. The water roared. Steam rose, and the shaking grew harder, seeping into her bones until she couldn't keep still.

He straightened up and held her gaze in the mirror and for the first time Tonks worried about what he was expecting.

Was he going to just stand her while she undressed? Was he planning on playing an active role in said undressing?

"I'll be outside if you need me," he said.

Mystery solved. He was Remus Lupin, after all.

"No, I-"

She was barely aware of the protest leaving her mouth, but she knew why it had happened; she didn't want him to leave.

Remus paused, his eyes wide and a little unsure.

"I don't want you to leave," she told him boldly, her hands curling around her robes, her palms sweating. "Someone's got to make sure I don't slip and break my face, after all."

He looked extremely hesitant. "I suppose that's true..."

Feeling daring, and a little hazy, she began working on the fastenings of her robes, her fingers slipping and shaking. When he realised what she was doing, he politely turned his back. He didn't see her purse her lips in disappointment. The entire room was alight with tension, and steamy with the hot water. Her skin broke out with a fine sheen as she let her robes fall in a heap at her feet. She saw him twitch a little in response to the sound, his neck twisting as though he were trying his hardest not to look round. She kicked her boots off.

Suddenly self conscious in only her functional underwear - which was distantly unsexy - she hurried off with the rest of her garments, worried about losing her nerve.

Naked, she slipped into the bath, thankful of the bubbles which would protect a certain amount of modesty.

"Alright, I'm in," she told him. "Are you going to stand there like that the whole time?"

Almost reluctantly, he turned to face her. At first his eyes darted around the room, focusing on anything but her. She pulled her legs up to her chest, curling herself up and willing the tremors away. The dirt lifted from her skin and floated on the surface, mixing with the shimmering bubbles. She looked away, back to Remus. Her anchor.

"Come here," she told him quietly, holding out an unsteady hand.

Remus relaxed a little and took it, lacing his warm, strong fingers with her damp ones. He knelt down by the edge of the tub, suddenly able to look at her as she was; naked and vulnerable, surrounded in the dirt of the day that had nearly taken her life.

With her free hand, Tonks cupped the edge of his face, and he shut his eyes. Her mouth tasted putrid and vile, and she didn't want to kiss him when she felt so disgusting. She just wanted to feel him; right there, beside her. Warm and safe and dry.

It was too much as he reached over and grabbed a washcloth from the side of the tub, mechanically dragging it through the water and squeezing some of the excess water out. The water was hot enough to leave her pink, but she didn't mind it. In fact, she relished it. It scorched her clean. Remus was dragging the cloth over her arm now, removing some of the tougher dirt. She held it out of the water for him obligingly. The tender care in his eyes made her own well up with tears. She watched his face, resting her cheek against the narrow edge of the porcelain bathtub.

She barely noticed her hair go his light shade of brown. His eyes flickered up to it, and he seemed to be unsure whether he should smile or be worried.

When Remus reached her hands, he abandoned the cloth and held her hands between his palms, working the dirt away with his fingertips. She watched him do it; careful, avoiding the scratches on her palms. She didn't tell him that the majority of the tiny grazes had come from the fall she had taken outside her block of flats earlier. The pavement had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"You're good at this," she noted gently.

"I've had a lot of practice," he smirked. At her raised eyebrow, he coloured. "I mean, of course, a lot of practice at washing dirt out. My not-so-better half doesn't exactly take into consideration mud and soil during a full moon. I have to scrub many a farmyard from my skin."

Tonks smiled gently. "You have gentle hands," she whispered contently.

He held her gaze, his eyes almost disbelieving. She bent her leg, her knee coming up out of the water. It caught his gaze; a fresh wound where the fence had broke her skin.

"Another one for the repertoire," she told him with a smile, resting her chin on the porcelain.

He drew out his wand from his pocket and with a muttered incantation healed the wound, leaving a thin pink scar. His face was grim, but his eyes looked lost and a little frantic, as though he thought he had suddenly overstepped his boundary.

She cupped his face in her pruned hands and forced him to look her in the eye. He looked like a man who couldn't quite believe his luck.

"I love you, Remus."

He froze, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He leaned forwards and kissed her everywhere; all over her face, her cheeks, her forehead. He buried his hands deep in her hair and cupped her head against his chest. Her eyes stung.

"No," he whispered reverently. "No, you don't. You can't. I'm not good enough for you to love. I'm too old, too poor, too-"

"Remus, don't," she warned.

"It's true."

"You know, traditionally after someone tells you they love you, you reply in one of two ways," she told him. At his questioning glance, she continued, "either you do or you don't."

"I don't think I've ever known a person to reply to a declaration of love with 'I don't love you'. Usually it's a little more diplomatic."

Tonks froze in horror. Time seemed to stand still. The blood rushed through her ears, roaring.

"No, no," Remus redeemed, his face terrified. "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," she told him, turning her head away.

"Nymphadora," he said frantically. "Surely you know that I feel the same? Surely you know how much I adore you? How precious you are to me?"

Tonks felt suddenly cold; naked in the water. She wanted to wrap herself around him and kiss him until she was a quivering mess and lie under him and feel his safe, reassuring weight. More than anything right now, she wanted to make love with him. But she knew he wouldn't. Not now, when she was vulnerable and shaking. She knew him, and his morals.

"But you can't say it?" she asked.

"It's not because I don't feel it," he pleaded, and Tonks could see the truth in his eyes. "It's because I honestly don't know if I will be able to follow this through. It would be unfair to both of us. If the Order takes one of us away..."

"Then it will hurt just as much," Tonks finished for him. "Just...just tell me. I need to hear it."

"Would you honestly want me to say it because it's what you need to hear?"

Tonks blinked hard. "If it's what you feel, then what does it matter? It's just words. I just need to hear you say them."

"Just words, indeed," he muttered.

She knew she wouldn't get it out of him. But deep down, she knew that he did. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. The desire at seeing her naked, however covered she was. Oh, how she wished he would take leave of his senses and spend the rest of the day proving to her just how much he did love her.

"I need you," she told him.

"You have me," Remus replied definitively, clutching her hand in his and pressing his lips firmly against her knuckles.

He wasn't catching on, and she wasn't going to push it.

She disappeared under the water for a while, relishing the relief of washing the dirt from her hair. With a little effort, she managed to morph a convincing pink coif. Pushing herself back up and squeezing the water from her eyes and hair, she noticed that the bubbled had shifted downwards, thus exposing her a little more than she had intended. Remus had averted his eyes.

"Why look away?" she asked softly, gathering the bubbles back towards her chest.

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do," he replied.

"Well, thank goodness you're a gentleman."

She took her hands in hers and lightly placed them on her shoulders. Her newly cleaned body hummed at the feel of his hands so intimately placed. It was different than when he had cleaned her; it was more personal. His hands were there because he wanted to feel her skin under his palms. Remus studied her face for a moment and scuffed his thumb lightly over the skin of her collarbone. She shivered and he looked hesitant, but didn't pull back.

"You can touch me," she told him, her lips a hair's breadth from his chin. "I want you to. I need your hands on me. Please."

Something in him snapped. She could feel it. Some tiny morsel of self control that was holding him back buckled, and he was cupping the back of her head and covering her mouth with his and she couldn't get enough of him. All concepts of modesty preserving bubbles fled her mind and she tangled her hands through his raggedy hair, while one of his traced slowly down her slippery back.

"I do love you," he panted against her cheek. "I do, Nymphadora. But it kills me."

"It doesn't matter about anything," she reassured, holding him to her. "We're here now, and that's all that matters."

He pulled back, and Tonks made to protest. "Yes," he agreed, sounding unconvinced.

Remus grabbed a soft white towel from the rail at the side of the tub, and holding it as an effective screen as she heaved herself up on unsteady legs. Careful of the slippy floor, she stepped out and allowed Remus to wrap the warm towel around her body. She felt exhausted, and a little faint from the heat of the bath.

"Wotcher," she muttered, taking the towel from him and curling it around her, tucking it in above her right breast.

"Hello," he grinned, kissing the tip of her nose.

As vulnerable as she had felt, she was glad they had overcome the clothing barrier, and had essentially broke into a new level of intimacy; a place where he didn't feel so far away and mysterious. Now that she was a little closer to him, she could see the faint pink flush across his face and bit her lip, wondering if she had found a way to bring out a less collected side of him.

"Are you alright now?" he asked.

"I think so," she nodded, feeling warmer.

"I'll leave you to it this time then," he smiled, cleaning her robes with a few flicks of his wand and handing them to her. They weren't entirely fragrant, but they would have to suffice.

She hugged him close, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest, her robes clenched in her hand at his back. A gentle hand cupped the back of her head.

"We can't go back if we move any further, you know?" he whispered into her damp hair. "This is still dangerous for both of us."

"Kingsley and Sirius saw," Tonks noted quietly.

He paused for a moment, heaving in a deep sigh. "I know. I wish I could say that I am worried. Honestly it didn't even cross my mind. That's how much you distract me."

She laughed into his neck. "I'm flattered," Tonks said. "Considering that a few months ago you were Remus we'll-be-cast-out-from-the-Order Lupin."

"We still could be," he protested.

"You honestly think Dumbledore would cast us asunder for falling in love?" she asked witheringly.

"No," he reasoned slowly. "But I don't think he would think highly of you trying to corrupt my professionalism by trying to lure me into a hot bath with you."

Her laughter rang around the bathroom, and she snuggled deeper into his arms, feeling him lift her up onto her toes, not caring that her wet skin was soaking through his robes. Not caring that her hair was wet and plastered to her head. They didn't care about any of it. At last, she had gotten through to him, and just for the moment, he was willing to give up everything just for her.

He loved her; he had told her. But if she was honest, she had always known.

What could touch them, in this bubble of love and joy?

To be continued...

* * *

**Please leave a review!**


	14. The Wisdom of Mistletoe

**I can't tell you how long I spent nitpicking and worrying over this chapter. I see this as a turning point; it had to happen at some point. I think that finally, I got it right. **

**Please note the rating change; there is adult content in this chapter, and while it's not gratuitous or particularly explicit, it's different from the tone thus far.  
**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: The Wisdom of Mistletoe

December began to pass in a blur of coloured lights, carols and pine trees. Tonks found herself unconsciously humming along to her favourite Christmas songs on the wireless, and though she had barely found the time to decorate her flat or do any Christmas shopping, the season had affected her and lifted her moods undeniably. Work passed uneventfully, with Scrimgeour and the rest of the Ministry ingoring and leaving her with paperwork. She noted with some relish that her boss seemed to be finding it difficult to look her in the eye, and made a point of being especially talkative to him when she found him the atrium or when he walked through the main office. The bastard needed to see the light in her eyes that he had nearly extinguished with his foul orders and cowardly fears.

As far as Remus went, Tonks' near death experience had done nothing but make him more passionate and sincere in his attentions towards her. She would often find him looking at her as though he would never see her again. It was as though he had sudden flashbacks to what he could have lost, and they made him cross the room and kiss her senseless; though not in the presence of anyone but the two of them. Tonks wasn't sure whether she was thankful or resentful of the fact that he could control his sudden, lustful moments during Order meetings, especially now Emmeline thought she had gotten lucky with their newly instated partnership.

She liked working with Kingsley though; it felt more relaxed and there was less pressure around not being caught; they could simply be two Aurors out for a drink after a hard day's work. Except they weren't; they were two Order members on patrol for the only known group of witches and wizards that had dared to stand up against the Ministry and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

But still, it was almost Christmas.

And she had Remus in her flat. Perched on the edge of the sofa as though he were scared the bright purple upholstery would swallow him whole.

He watched her with anxious eyes as she smiled from the kitchen counter, filling two bowls with large helpings of chocolate cake and ice cream. Remus' eyes were fixed on her, as though he would need to jump up and save her from smashing the two china bowls at her bare feet. He really was ridiculous sometimes; a few stumbles and people think you're going to kill yourself. Tonks frowned and gave him a distinctively ungenerous scoop of ice cream.

"Here," she muttered. "And you don't have to look at me like that. I may be accident prone but I'm not a bloody clown."

To prove her point, she picked both bowls up and carried them over to the sofa, putting them down heavily and taking her seat without any accidents or trips. He released a deep breath and settled back into the sofa.

"Sorry," he admitted. "I know you're perfectly capable."

This was it, Tonks decided; the best time to bring up what had been bothering her. She took a huge forkful of rich cake into her mouth and said around it – 'Remus, you need to stop looking at me like I'm going to drop dead at any moment. We know what happened; I nearly walked into a trap. That's the end of it, and it didn't happen. Just relax; you're making me feel edgy all the time."

Obviously having trouble deciphering her through the sugar, chocolate and fudge filling her cheeks, Remus smirked. "Well that's definitely a way to skirt around what you need to say; say it, but through a mouthful of cake. Was that a technique you developed as a child?"

Tonks narrowed her eyes and gave him her best withering stare. He burst out laughing, gently removing a morsel of cake - which had escaped and taken up refuge at the corner of her mouth – with his thumb. Stopped from sticking her tongue out at him by the rather horrific sight it would create, she sucked the tip of his thumb into her mouth playfully. He watched her, a little breathlessly, and took his hand back, leaving her with only the taste of chocolate cake in her mouth.

"At least I say things," she protested.

"That you do," he agreed, and she slapped him on the arm playfully. He sobered a little and took a mouthful of his own cake. "I wasn't aware that I was watching you as though you were about to drop dead, Nymphadora. I'll be careful not to do so in the future."

His own words were muffled by the cake, and Tonks giggled, wondering how much effort it had taken for him to go against his gentlemanly ways and speak with his mouth full.

"Speaking of the future," Tonks began, "what are you getting Harry for Christmas?"

"Ah," Remus said, putting his cake down. "Well, I'm afraid I will always be his teacher at heart, so I'm going to give him some of my favourite books. Sirius is splitting the money with me and no doubt I'll be sent to do all of his shopping. I think this is the one time of the year when he is relishing not being able to leave the house."

"Remus," Tonks told him, impressed. "That's a brilliant idea. I don't know what to buy him. I'd like to get him something, though; he was such a nice kid. All those hours we spend on patrol watching him this summer. It feels like I know him but he doesn't know me."

He smiled, and Tonks could see the weariness behind his eyes.

The full moon grew nearer.

With a finger, she traced the deep circles under his eyelashes. He looked away, uncomfortable with attention being brought to his affliction.

"Don't worry," Tonks reassured. "You'll get some Wolfsbane. Jasper won't let you go through Christmas without. When are you seeing him next?"

Remus hesitated, and Tonks could see that urge to protect her rise within him. She brushed it away.

"Remus?"

"Jasper is unwell," Remus told her grimly.

"Unwell?" Tonks asked, panicked. "Was it the last transformation? Can you take him to St Mungos?"

"He's...he's not physically ill, Tonks," Remus continued grimly. "Jasper...he gets times when he simply can't cope with the idea of his affliction. You've only ever seen him at his best. He's always been making light of lycanthropy?"

Tonks nodded a wave a dread creeping up on her. "It's not like that all the time," Remus told her. "When he lost his business, it rebounded on him dreadfully. He won't leave his room, and Tom is saying that he can't afford to let him stay there for free much longer. He won't see anyone; he'll rarely let me visit him."

"He'll lose his room?" Tonks asked, horrified. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few weeks," Remus answered, unable to look him in the eye. "It's happened before. He'll pull himself back."

Something in the way Remus was informing her made Tonks think that he was not entirely inexperienced when it came to Jasper's state of mind. Tonks winced as she thought of him going through the same thing all of his life with no one to turn to.

"We need to see him," Tonks stated, panicked. "Now. Get your cloak and we'll go."

She began to rise from her seat on the sofa, and Remus stopped her with a grip on her hand. She fought against him, prising herself away and heading towards the cloak stand.

"It's after midnight," Remus told her. "The Leaky will be closed. We can't just go barging in."

"Yes, we can," Tonks ground out, fastening her cloak around her shoulders and running a hand through her hair. "Jasper can stay here. For as long as he needs. I never thought Tom would do that to someone. I thought he would know better."

"He hasn't done anything," Remus contradicted soothingly. He took her hands in his. "Please, just sit with me."

Stiffly, Tonks followed him over to the sofa, perching on the end impatiently. Anger and guilt rose within her. The feeling that Jasper had been left by them; by his friends when he needed them both.

"He won't want to see us," Remus told her. "He won't want to see anyone. Trust me."

"And how do you know what he wants?" Tonks snapped, immediately regretting the words as they left her mouth.

His eyes clouded over, his mouth setting into a grim line. She screwed her eyes closed in regret and tried to will the words away, but they hung in the air like a bad smell; proof that she, Nymphadora Tonks could be such a stupid, thoughtless idiot. She apologised feebly, and he seemed to forgive her.

"Don't deserve you," she muttered.

"Nonsense," he chuckled, unfastening her cloak.

She pulled back, looking him in the eyes, challenging. "I love you," she told him.

It was a prompt, and he smiled gently. But he said nothing, just pressed his lips softly against hers and swallowed any protest which may have followed. Tonks wanted to complain; needed to hear some kind of proof that she wasn't in this alone. He had said it; he had told her before. It had been a jumbled kind of declaration, and she had had to dig deep through it to get to its meaning. Why would he never tell her?

"No," she said, pushing him back. "Why won't you say it back?"

"Because it would be an echo," Remus told her softly. She blinked up at him, unsure what she should be feeling. "You deserve more than that."

Unwilling to grow angry and say something she would regret, Tonks diverted the conversation. But still, the slight hurt at the fact that he couldn't say three simple words to her swam through her body. Her voice was a forced sort of jovial as she said. "So, are you going to decorate Grimmauld Place for Christmas?"

"Ah, I'm afraid Christmas decorations are rather beyond my creative abilities," he sighed, casting a glance around at her flat. "Perhaps you could do us the honour?"

"I don't know that I was planning on spending my Christmas in a fight to the death with Kreacher while I try to hang tinsel around his mistress' portrait."

Remus laughed, and his face lit up. Tonks felt her stomach fill with happiness at the thought that she could brighten his face.

"No, I think that's why we've been avoiding it," Remus agreed. "That and...I don't think Sirius is prepared to come out from his pit of misery and partake in anything even slightly uplifting. It would seem that his strategy is to hide away in his room and sulk. Unfortunately, it's a tactic that doesn't work for a man in his thirties."

She laughed, and little hollowly and he smiled sweetly at her. With a guiding hand, he encouraged her to shift closer. She obliged, taking it one step further and straddling his lap. He leant back as she kissed him thoroughly, her hands tracing the shape of his shoulders, his chest. It was all so good; the feel of his hot breath against her cheek, and the scratch of his stubble against her chin and his hands – oh god, his hands running up and down her back, sending shivers down her spine.

It would be so easy; the bedroom suddenly seemed so close. Just a few measly steps and they would be able to crash back into the cushions and...

She moved her hips closer, and felt him gasp, swallowing it with her smiling lips. He dragged his own mouth across to her ear. "Another time," he promised, and gently prised her away from him.

"Why are you always so hesitant?" Tonks asked, sitting herself back down.

Remus sighed, and gently curved his palm to fit the side of her face. She sighed and leaned into him, unable to stop the smile from blooming across her face.

"I just..." he looked down a little shyly. "I don't want us to spoil anything. It's so easy to get caught up in the moment and then it's all done with. I don't want that; I want us both to be sure and...it should be right."

"It will be right," Tonks insisted. "If it's us. Together. Do you...are you not sure about this still? About us?"

"I think that I'm done with trying to fight it. Resisting you is exhausting," he laughed, leaning over to press a sweet, honest kiss against the side of her face.

Tonks frowned, the word 'exhausting' ringing through her head as though someone had just shouted it in her ear. Should she be alarmed that he found her _exhausting_?

"But I want this," she insisted. "You're always saying how little time we could have. How it could all be over tomorrow. Merlin, I nearly died the other week. It nearly happened. Can't you...I mean, do you not want to...?"

Remus sighed, and it came out desperate and shaky. "Of course I want to," he expressed. "How could I not want to?"

With a firm grip he guided her back into his lap, and she rested her forehead against his, staring into his eyes. It was a cruel imitation of what they could be; this sweet lovers embrace which could so easily be something else but wasn't. She closed her eyes and half believed that they were in bed, and the thick clothes between them were gone and they were free to explore each other. Would he be as gentle as he was now, or would a desperate passion take hold and reveal a newer, raw side of him?

Time would tell.

* * *

Tonks hunched lower into the scalding hot bath water and tried to block out the sounds around her; scream that could have rung around the Department of Mysteries. It could have been Remus, instead it was Arthur. How could she be such a monster and actually feel _relief_? Arthur was one of the best men that she knew. The thought of his life in danger send a wave of nausea to her stomach.

It could have been Remus. It could have been Remus. It could have been Remus.

Oh god, he could be dead.

What was happening; did no one think it appropriate to let her know? It was four o'clock in the morning and nothing and she was waiting her in this ridiculously hot bath almost hoping that the water would encourage her to pass out when she finally climbed into bed. Where was Remus, or word from Sirius?

Merlin, what would she have done if Remus had died?

Her nose just touched the skin of the water as she let her head loll forwards, trying ineffectually to ease the intense knots from the back of her neck. Remus attacked, Remus dead, Remus bleeding...

No. No, instead, it was Arthur bleeding. Her stomach turned.

A bang and a click outside; her front door opening. Oh, god, she had left it open. Her head shot up. Remus?

Still, she snatched her wand up, climbing out of the bath and fixing a towel around herself. "Remus?" she called her eyes wild.

"Yes," he answered grimly.

He pushed the door open and peered inside; Tonks could barely imagine what she looked like. Probably half boiled and distraught and driven insane with worry and guilt and doubt. Her skin was in direct contrast to his; his face was pale and shocked, his eyes pained. Tonks gasped as she saw him, putting her wand down.

"They wouldn't let me see him," Tonks croaked. "They said it would look...suspicious. They let you?"

"Yes, they did," Remus told her.

"And?" she asked, desperate.

"It...it looks like he'll live."

"Looks like? Looks like! What's that supposed to mean?" she cried, tears running freely down her face.

Remus stepped into her small bathroom, looking close to tears himself. She wanted to have all of him; and let him have all of her. She wanted the reassurance of his eyes on her body and his hands everywhere. She couldn't bear not to touch him. She came into his arms.

"Bed," she gasped out against his cheek, pulling herself closer. "Take me to bed. Make love to me."

The hot steam made her dizzy as she let her towel fall loose to the floor, and she swayed a little, his arms there to fall into rather than the hard welcome of the bathroom tiles. The slick floor of the bathtub suddenly seemed treacherous, and she wobbled, clinging to him desperately.

Gently, Remus steadied her.. He ran his eyes over her tenderly, finally coming to rest on her face. Tonks stared up at him, standing before him entirely naked and exposed. He mouth fell open slightly, her breath catching as his hands stilled on her waist.

He pulled her close, and she went oh, so willingly. The room was swimming.

But she couldn't. Her hands were shaking too profusely, and she was going to pass out. Oh, god.

Please, let him live. Let them all live.

She didn't even notice how cold the floor felt under her bottom or his voice, panicked and far away. Her skin felt too hot, and she wished she could crawl out of it and into him. He would never make love to her tonight; not after she had collapsed on the cold tiles as though she'd no bones in her body. It was the heat, she tried to tell herself. She was fine.

The room stopped spinning, and there his face was, concerned and hazy.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry," she moaned. He shushed her. She gripped his robes between her fingers. "I've ruined it. I still want to go to bed. I still need to feel you."

She had never seen a more conflicted man in her entire life, and he hauled her up against him and she realised that she was naked and he fully clothed, and that couldn't be fair, could it? It was a mockery of what they had experienced that last time in the bath; it had been peaceful and tranquil and she had told him she loved him. Now, she had collapsed on her backside in an undignified heap and he had just been about to take her to bed. And she had wanted this for so long...

It was over; ruined. She grabbed her robe from the back of the door and wrapped herself in it, covering her vulnerability. For a moment she let her head hang heavily, trying to catch her breath...trying not to cry because she had been so close and it had been so perfect and she had spoiled it so awfully.

He came up behind her, and she felt his arms wind around her waist, and his lips press against the patch of skin at the back of her ear. She sighed, and let the tears come.

"I'm sorry," she choked.

"Whatever for?" he asked, gently.

"It was so perfect, and now the moment's gone," Tonks explained, her voice thick.

"It's not gone," Remus replied softly. "You did no such thing. If you want me to love you tonight, I will. If not, then next time will be equally as perfect."

"Why is it suddenly up to me?" Tonks asked, laughing a little through the tears.

"Because I trust you, wholeheartedly," he told her honestly. "And having you here like this...against me. How could I deny you anything?"

She turned around in his arms and he kissed her in earnest, his mouth opening to meet hers and his lips softer than anyone she'd ever known. It felt better; right now she was as covered as he was, and she broke away for a moment to undo the buttons of his shirt. A level playing field. He watched her with dark eyes, sparkling with mischief, and Tonks laughed at the twinkle in his eye. He looked like a thirty something year old school boy.

She gave him a friendly shove. "Bed?" he asked.

"Hmm," she agreed, suddenly a little self conscious.

He took her hand and led her through the door into her adjoining bedroom. She bit her lip as she regarded the bed, and realised that the bright pink covers probably weren't appropriate and that her stuffed animals were watching her with distain. It had been so long...

"It's been..." she blurted, her voice quivering. "I haven't...not since Hogwarts."

He pulled her into his arms, and she relaxed a little. It had been her final year when she started seeing a boy. And when it had happened, it hadn't been good at all. It had been awkward and tense and she hadn't liked him all that much. But this was different; her love for Remus made her more than ready to try again, and she fell open to him. Even the thought of it sent waves of pleasure through her body – a promise of what was to come.

He pressed a kiss against her neck, and Tonks wondered how long it had been for him. Probably far too long.

Remus trailed his lips gently up her neck, his mouth soft and open, leaving her gasping for air and for him. She clutched at the open front of his robes and carefully loosened the tie of her dressing gown.

"I must say," he panted against her ear. "I'm intrigued about this last time at Hogwarts."

Tonks laughed her face colouring with embarrassment. His teasing attitude quickly sobered when he realised that she wasn't really finding it funny. He pulled away from her neck and looked her in the eyes, and she didn't need to tell him that it had been awful or that she hadn't enjoyed it, because he seemed to understand. His eyes turned soft and compassionate, and he pressed kisses against the side of her face.

"What about you? Your last time?" she hinted.

"It was nothing special," he replied shortly, and guided her over to the bed. She half wondered if he was saying that to make her feel better, but then he was leaning her back and his mouth was focused in the dip just above her collarbone and she stopped wondering about anything.

He stretched her out, hovering above her and she watched, her breath coming short. How could she ever not want him?

"Come down here with me," she urged, and tugged him down to lie next to her.

He collapsed rather ungracefully next to her, winding himself, and their giggles rang through her room, setting it on fire with love and hilarity. The laughter rang out until there was silence and their heavy breaths, and Tonks lay on her stomach, watching him through heavy eyelids. He lay on his back, his chest heaving as he regarded her with those gentle Remus eyes.

They would be so brilliant, together.

"So perfect," she muttered, running her lips down the straight edge of his nose. She gave him a sweet, chaste peck on the lips.

"Hmm," he hummed contently. "Yes, you are."

"I used to think that this would never happen," Tonks confided quietly. "I thought that you'd never love me. When we first met...you seemed so distant. You still do sometimes. But it was so impossible. But I've always loved you. Always. And I always will."

"You were so full of life," he confessed, running a hand through her half damp hair. Her skin had cooled a little, but still glowed with the heat of her bath. Suddenly the robe seemed too restrictive, and she wished she had never put it on. "You were too good for me. Before I met you...you can't imagine how tired I was, Nymphadora. So, so tired. And you've woke me up, in every way possible."

"Not quite every way," she reminded him, grinning cheekily. She straddled him, and he gave some cross between a disparaging moan and a chuckle. She lay against him, resting her head against the patch of his chest exposed by the unbuttoned shirt, and listened to his fast heart. So alive, so Remus. So wonderful.

It was so wonderfully soothing that she had to close her eyes for a moment, just to rest a little. Just for a few seconds. They would make love in a minute; she just needed to rest her eyes and her mind...

"Nymphadora?"

She groaned, and felt someone brushing the hair away from her forehead. A warm, solid body beneath her own.

Her eyes flew open; daylight. Remus next to her, his arm curled around her back as she curled up on his chest. She looked up at him, bleary and confused.

"Morning," he told her, looking rather amused.

"What?" she asked, squinting against the light.

"You fell asleep," he explained. "No wonder; you must have been exhausted. I didn't like to wake you."

A peer at the clock told her that she'd been asleep for around two hours, and that it was the early hours of dawn. Birds sang outside, and her head pounded, willing her to get some more sleep. But she fought the urge; she had done enough damage last night.

"M'sorry," she mumbled. "I ruined it again."

"We both have clearer heads this morning," Remus reminded her. "A much better position to be in."

Her head didn't feel clearer in the slightest, and she couldn't fathom just how she had managed to fall asleep like that on top of him. She could imagine him watching her expectantly and the sincere amusement when he found that she had in fact fallen sound asleep against his chest.

"You can go with Alastor to see Arthur tomorrow. Dumbledore needs to speak to me, so I'll go next time," Remus told her. "Is that alright?"

Tonks nodded lazily and gave an almighty yawn, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes. "Suppose you want to get up?" she asked, put out.

"In fact," he whispered into her ear. "I had other ideas..."

His voice was husky, and Tonks blinked hard a few times to make sure she wasn't dreaming as he rolled her onto her back. She tried to catch her breath, and for the first time could see his face properly. She gasped at the sight of his eyes, so darkened with want that she could barely see the colour of them. His lips looked a little pinker than usual, and she felt a moan rise within her at the thought of him sitting up all night and growing more and more wanting.

"If you want to, of course?" he asked, sounding a little more like Remus. She laughed in earnest and pulled him down for a deep kiss.

He balanced his weight to keep himself off her just a little, and she tangled her fists in his soft hair, pulling a soft moan from his throat. Oh Merlin, it was all too much and not enough and he was gently easing her robe open and she was shedding him of his shirt and she could see the strain in his muscles as he held his weight up. She lifted up a little and sank her teeth down into his shoulder, tracing back over the bite with her tongue and pulling a groan from him as he shifted onto one arm and used the other to gently trace up her stomach and over her breast.

She was bare to him, with her robe wide open beneath her and her breath coming in sharp, wanting gasps as he leant down and his mouth was tracing the same route as his hand had taken. She let her legs fall open, trembling a little, and he settled himself over her. She could feel now just how much he needed her through his trousers, which in turn sent a renewed wave of heat through her groin.

"Don't know...why I...fell asleep," she told him breathlessly. "If I'd have known...I would've...made more of an effort to stay...awake."

She felt the rumble of his laughter against her left nipple. Gently, he coaxed her arms free of the robe and flung it aside. She was naked now; completely vulnerable and wanton beneath him and he was entirely not naked enough. She reached down and fumbled with the closure of his trousers, until eventually he had to do it, and they ended up in a pile at the foot of the bed.

He disappeared for a moment under the covers, and came back. "Socks," he explained, looking sheepish, and Tonks dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Remus laughed with her but didn't settle back between her legs. He propped himself up next to her, watching her giggles die down with a tender look on his face. Tonks raised her eyebrows expectantly; _and now?_

"Lie back..." Remus muttered against her cheek, and Tonks sighed in frustration.

And then she felt his fingers; gentle at her thigh. She spread her knees, lifting and encouraging, murmuring her appreciation into his neck. He touched her just..._there _and her breath caught, her eyes wide and her mouth open as his fingers, gentle as everything about him, explored her. She knew this was about her last time, and she didn't care, because his hands were erasing the bad memories which sat between her legs and filling her with new ones. Oh, and he was gently nibbling at her raised knee and she needed him; all of him. His finger traced gently around her, teasing but never intrusive. Tonks looked up and found him watching her face, his mouth slightly open, and his breath quick.

She found his hands and pulled them away, tugging him to lie over her fully. He looked a little displeased at having been interrupted, but he indulged her anyway. She gently let her head fall back against the pillows and let herself laugh at the sight of him in her lurid pink bed. He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure how I feel about your laughing at me, considering the current state of affairs," he admitted, dipping his head to nip at her neck teasingly.

"Hmm," she replied. "Don't worry, I'm laughing with you."

"I _wasn't_ laughing," he shot back jokingly, his eyes twinkling.

"You should invest in some pink robes;" she snorted playfully, "the colour really does suit your skin...oh!"

He had settled his hips between hers, and she had felt the gentle, firm pressure of him just where she wanted it. There was no more teasing, and no more giggles, just heated kisses and whispered words which died out into mingled gasps as he gently pressed against her. And it was different this time; it was so much different. There was no sharpness or soreness and when he filled her she was slick and open and oh, so ready. She didn't lay stiff underneath him and wish for the end; she just wanted it to go on and on and on and he went up and up and up until she forgot that he had ever not been there inside her. Her body moved on its own, driven by instinct and different parts of her arched up and grasped at his slick back for purchase and her legs had a mind of their own, driven by the need to pull him deeper.

She let her hands slide down to grasp at his tense buttocks, wanting more and trying to spur him on. He kept as his tender pace; pressing firm kisses against her neck and mouth, his own sounds of pleasure muted and soft.

She lifted her knee and little, and Remus seemed to appreciate it greatly, pausing for a moment to press his face into the pillow and catch his breath. She felt his hand at the back of her knee, keeping it firmly there and continuing with the pace that seemed so much more exquisite with her leg lifted just like that...

It took her a moment to realise that his hand had left her leg, and that he was trailing it down between them to where they were so intimately joined, watching her intently as his fingers pressed lightly; circling and encouraging. Her head fell back, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, and she felt him exhale against her neck.

"Don't...look so...smug," she breathed, grinning widely. "Oh..."

A pit of sensation began to build, threatening to spill over, and she looked at him in shock and delight, feeling a fine layer of sweat break out over her overheated body. She furrowed her brow, the pleasure taking a grip on her, and then he was pressing harder and moving faster and she was coming in huge, gripping waves.

Remus panted and moved within her a few more times before he buried his face in her neck and she could feel the tension in his jaw. She nuzzled the side of his face soothingly as he faltered and finally shuddered to a stop.

Her legs folded around him and he caught his breath in the crook of her neck. She gently pressed her nose into the softness of his hair. He made to lift himself off her, but she hooked her legs tighter around him, keeping his weight inside her; over her. His shoulders relaxed, and she traced the line of his strong back, thinking how much she loved it, and how she would have to explore every inch of it with her tongue.

"That was..." she started.

"Mmm," he agreed, sounding a little sleepy.

"Good?" she asked.

"Devastatingly so," he whispered, and she grinned with pride. He pressed his lips to her ear. "I love you, Nymphadora."

There it was; honest and true.

Eventually, they had to part, and she curled herself close to his side, feeling drowsy. The clock said it was half past six; they'd still time to sleep. Remus pulled the blanket up around Tonks, his eyes already closed in exhaustion. Tonks wondered if he'd gotten any sleep at all that night. It took her a little while longer to drift off, but she drifted along in a happy, satisfied haze for a while.

They had made love; her and Remus.

And here he was, curled up against her as a lover.

Arthur Weasley's face swam in the forefront of her mind, and she frowned, snuggling up to Remus and praying that they wouldn't be saying goodbye to anyone.

* * *

"Ah, Tonks! A thought occurred to me this morning. Your father is a muggleborn!"

Tonks didn't quite know how to react to Arthur Weasley as he sat up in his hospital bed and enthused at her as though he had simply tripped and twisted his ankle, rather than been bitten horrifically by a giant snake. She found herself smiling in disbelief.

"Yeah, he is," she replied.

"Fantastic," Arthur lit up. "So you must have muggle relatives! Do you think that you could procure for me..." he leaned forward, a little conspiratorially, "a toaster and three batteries?"

Tonks glanced up, finding Molly watching her husband with livid eyes, her arms folded across her ample bosom. Arthur noticed, and sat back, shooting Tonks a blatant 'we'll talk later' look. Tonks snorted in amusement and grasped the man's hand.

"I'm so glad you're feeling okay, Arthur," she told him honestly.

"Thank you, Tonks," he said, smiling at her.

"And you, Tonks dear?" Molly asked, her eyes kind, if a little tense. "Are you alright?"

"I'm brilliant," she replied, her smile genuine. She thought that Molly looked a little too knowing as her eyes twinkled from across Arthur's hospital bed.

"Sirius was under the impression that Remus hadn't come home last night," Molly remarked flippantly, and Tonks felt her face heat up with the memory.

"Lupin?" Mad-Eye piped up for the first time, taking a swig from his flask and narrowing his eyes. He nodded knowingly. "Probably out on patrol. Always one for constant vigilance, that lad. Good influence. In fact, I was under the impression that Lupin was supposed to be on duty when it happened."

Arthur seemed keen to change the subject. "Ah, yes, I offered to swap with him. The poor man looked exhausted after the last full moon," he said as a nurse brought him a tray of rather horrible looking food. He tucked in. "Ah, now, what on earth could this be?"

Tonks smiled gratefully at the red haired man and felt Molly's gaze trained intently on her embarrassed face. She tried to look natural, as though Remus hadn't spent the night in her bed. She thought of the things he had whispered in her ear that morning and flushed deeper, unable to control her memory.

"Speaking of vigilance, Tonks," Mad-Eye told her gruffly. "You and Kingsley are on patrol tomorrow night. You know what to do."

Molly held her hand over her chest. "Is it safe, to send them..._there..._when Arthur has just been attacked?" her voice was hushed, despite the _muffilato _that masked their words.

"Constant vigilance," Moody told them simply, and Tonks brushed aside the initial fear.

"Alright," Tonks agreed, not able to meet anyone's eye.

"We carry on," Moody growled.

"Yes," Arthur said, a little sadly, gazing at a forkful of congealed carrots. "We carry on."

The rest of the visit passed quietly, and Tonks found her sparse hours of sleep creeping up on her; her eyes felt scratchy and sore, but her mind was wired. She couldn't stop thinking about what would have happened if Arthur hadn't offered to swap with Remus; how would Remus' weaker body have coped with the bite?

When it was time to leave, Tonks couldn't help but wonder whether Remus would be back from his discussion with Dumbledore. They left with goodbyes and promises to see Arthur again very soon, and Tonks hoped that he would be home for Christmas. She chatted to Harry and the kids and tried to keep herself awake.

The atmosphere at Grimmauld Place was so different that when she entered she half panicked that she'd walked into the wrong house. Everything seemed to buzz with Christmas cheer, and a bare Christmas tree sat in the drawing room ready to be decorated. Sirius arrived in a tangle of decorations, his voice happier and his face lighter than she had ever witnessed.

For the rest of the afternoon, she helped her cousin prepare the house, throwing some of the more tacky decorations at him and laughing as he tied her up in a paper chain.

When Remus finally arrived, he looked a little subdued, but returned her wide smile when she met his gaze. She was too euphoric to worry about whatever Dumbledore had told him; for a few days, she just wanted to live in ignorant bliss. Remus joined in, helping her hang baubles on the tree and stretching up to place the star right at the top. Sirius, oblivious to their new found intimacy, sang carols to himself.

Eventually, Sirius left in search of food. As soon as they were alone, they attacked each other with desperate kisses and wandering hands.

"Hmm," she muttered against his mouth. "Thought you'd vanished."

"Sorry," he said simply, dragging his mouth down her neck.

"So," Tonks prompted, drawing back to look at his slightly lined face. "What did Dumbledore want?"

"Oh, nothing," he lied, his deception obvious.

Tonks pursed her lips and pulled away, and he sighed in frustration, but seemed genuinely unable to tell her any more.

The sky grew dark outside, and they all ended up piling into the kitchen for a home cooked meal. Molly rushed around the stove with all the vigour of an Auror on the hunt for a dark wizard, and Tonks admired her ability to move so gracefully around the kitchen.

Remus talked with Harry and Sirius, and she joined in where she could. Everyone seemed happy and light; Arthur was going to live and Christmas was just around the corner and everyone was together. Tonks thought of her and Remus; they were together now. So together. Ginny had levitated mistletoe trapped in glass baubles to hover over everyone's heads, and they all laughed and paid the roaming globes no heed.

Emmeline was there, and was kept strictly away from the firewhiskey. Mad Eye hunched in the corner, surveying everyone. Others from the order mingled and wished each other Merry Christmases if they weren't able to attend before the big day itself. Things were at peace.

Finally, when everyone had a giant meal in their bellies and had left to go home, and the children left to go to bed, Tonks, Remus, Sirius, Molly and Mad-Eye sat around the table with hot cups of tea.

"Good man, Lupin," Mad-Eye growled, raising his flask in Remus' direction. "I understand that you put your night to productive use last night."

Remus choked on his tea, his face colouring, and Molly patted his back firmly.

"He did?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Extra patrol," Mad-Eye said knowingly. "I call that taking initiative. General sweep of London, was it?"

"Oh, I'm sure it was a general sweep of something," Sirius muttered over the rim of his cup, his eyes flickering to Tonks.

"Regardless to say; good idea, Lupin. I shall be having words with Dumbledore concerning overnight patrols throughout London. I know you'll back me up."

"Of course, Alastor," Remus agreed, looking relieved.

Tonks giggled into her tea, and Mad-Eye seemed to delight in lecturing her about the importance of security details and that they were no laughing matter.

The night drew late, and Tonks announced that she had to leave. She said her goodnights, and as Remus stood and held her cloak out for her to shrug into, Tonks glanced upwards. A single glass bauble hovered above them, holding a sprig of mistletoe. Remus followed her gaze and smiled wistfully at her.

"Oh, dears," Molly said breathily, holding her hand over her heart. "Oh, how perfect. You simply must kiss..."

Tonks shifted a little awkwardly. "Molly..."

Even Mad-Eye twisted around to look, apparently not trusting his magical eye to tell the truth on this occasion. There was an awkward pause, when all eyes were on them, and the mistletoe had a fixation with the two of them, refusing the budge.

"Go on, mate," Sirius said, draining his tea, his eyes fixed on Remus, a smirk playing around his mouth.

A blush played around Remus' cheeks; was he really going to kiss her in front of all these people?

With a hand in the small of her back, he tugged her close. This felt so natural that she wondered if they would all wonder how they both seemed so comfortable in each others' arms. Should she feign a little awkwardness to throw them off the scent? But then his lips were pressing softly against hers and his nose was pushing softly against her cheek and she barely noticed Molly's clapping or Sirius' wolf-whistle.

All she felt was him.

To be continued..

* * *

**I feel a little like I've just stood naked in public.**** There we have it. **

**Please leave a review; I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year.**


	15. Glowing Heart, Pool of Ice

**You owe the fast update to the fact that I'm ill and this seems to be the only thing that makes me feel better**. **This is fluff heavy, angst heavy and a chance for Remus and Tonks to get away from the hectic life of the Order for the Holiday season. The chapter also makes use of its rating, so be aware of that too.**

**And enjoy! Thank you to everyone who has left a review. They really do brighten my day.  
**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Glowing Heart, Pool of Ice.

_It's the most wonderful time of the year  
There'll be much mistletoe-ing  
And hearts will be glowing  
When love ones are near  
It's the most wonderful time of the year..._

Tonks stirred at the sound of the crooning, the wireless old and a little crackling. At the back of her consciousness, she was dimly aware of the sound of her front door opening, and the rush a cool air which followed...the thump of shoes being removed, and the creek of her old floorboards. Too tired to open her eyes, she settled for listening. Whoever it was seemed to be creeping, but she couldn't bring herself to panic.

The song on the radio came to a sudden stop, leaving only the silence.

"Nymphadora...

The voice was soft and tender and familiar, and she felt sleep give way to it, suddenly aware of the sofa beneath her and the scratchy blanket draped across her.

She opened her eyes and grinned; Remus was sitting close, his gentle eyes fixed on her sleeping face.

"You left the wireless on," he told her, brushing her fringe back from her head. "I know I'm late; sorry. I got here as soon as I could. It's just been such a busy day. But still, at least Arthur didn't have to spend the day alone."

Tonks blinked the slumber from her eyes. "Is it still Christmas?" she asked blearily. She sat up, trying to get a better look at the clock. Five past midnight; Boxing Day. She sighed.

"We missed Christmas together," she told him regretfully, stroking the side of her face.

"This can be our Christmas," he compromised. "How was your day at your parents?"

"Long," she smiled. "But still good. I don't think I could've sat through another rendition of Dad's Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, though. I swear, muggles can certainly create fictional characters out of the most bizarre concepts. And I knocked a roast potato off the plate and spilled gravy on the floor and mum looked as though she was going to have a fit, but she kept it in because it was Christmas. Thank god."

Remus chuckled, and looked as tired as she felt...but a good sort of tired. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"Would've been better if you were there," Tonks teased.

"Sorry," he smiled, leaning down to brush a kiss across her forehead. He smelt of roast dinner and soap, and she grinned.

"I did get you a souvenir, though," she told him.

"Oh, really?" he asked politely, his face curious.

"Yes," she said excitedly, reaching for her bag where she had dumped it earlier that night and pulling out a folded piece of tissue paper. It was luminous in colour, and for a moment Remus simply stared, obviously wondering if she was joking.

"Put it on," she urged. "It's a hat. A paper crown hat. In pink, no less. "

"I...think it would suit you a little better," he reasoned, but seeing her face fall, sighed and unfolded the little paper contraption, sliding it over his head and into place. He raised an eyebrow, and Tonks laughed in delight, throwing her arms around him.

"You're perfect," she mumbled into his shoulder. "Merry not-Christmas."

He hummed in delight. "Happy Boxing Day."

"Are you going to wear that all day?" she asked hopefully, pulling back to look at his lovely mane of unruly brown-grey hair with its new pink trimming. He sighed, looking thoroughly torn by the embarrassment he felt and the urge to give her whatever she wanted.

"That depends," he said, "are you planning on hexing it to glue to my head?"

"Why on earth would I ever be so cruel?" Tonks joked, holding a hand over her heart in mock affront.

"Then no, I suspect it will come off as soon as the novelty wears off."

"Hmm," she told him, her mouth against his. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing you in that. Therefore the novelty will never ever wear off. And so you'll have to make it a permanent wardrobe fixture. I think it brings out your eyes."

Remus laughed and lowered her back down to the cushions, giving her a proper hello kiss, his tongue exploring her lips and his hands safely buried in her hair. They had found little time in the run up to Christmas for moments like these, but now Christmas was finished with; their time seemed to expand before them like a carpet being rolled out. She slipped her hand under his new jumper – courtesy of Molly Weasley – to seek out the warm skin of his back.

He pressed a warm kiss on her forehead, and she scooted over so that he could lie face to face with her. Careful not to fall off, Remus stationed himself in the space she had provided, his face level with hers. She tangled her feet between his ankles and sighed as she felt his arm come about her waist.

"So tell me about your day," Tonks prodded the soft part of his waist.

"Hectic," he said, sounding half asleep already. "We had lunch at Grimmauld Place. Molly really outdid herself. And then we went to see Arthur, and I visited Jasper, and made sure he was alright..."

"How's he doing?" Tonks asked, concerned, snuggling her face into the space just under his chin.

"A little better. He seems more positive," Remus told her.

"That's good. And I can see him soon?" she reminded him pointedly, and felt him nod. "Good."

"Were you like that?" Tonks blurted, meeting his eyes and holding his tired gaze. "Have you felt like...that...before?"

"Yes," he said honestly, choosing not to elaborate.

"You can tell me," Tonks whispered. "You can let me in now; I thought that I'd made that clear. You can always trust me to listen."

Remus sighed. "It's not something I like to bring up," he told her.

"It helped before...when you had those dreams...you said it helped to talk about them. Share it with me; don't suffer alone."

"Now isn't the time, Tonks." The use of her last name, coming from him stung a little. Funny, she thought; she had spent her whole life trying to make people call her Tonks, and now it was the last thing she wanted to hear from Remus Lupin.

"If you had something deep inside," he whispered gently. "Something which made you feel so disgusted with yourself...and the only way to fight it was to forget it...you wouldn't want to talk about it either. Yes, I've had moments similar to Jasper's when all hope seemed to flee and I felt so alone and unable to carry on. I won't deny that. But I don't feel that way anymore...because of you. So please, Nymphadora, just leave it be."

Tonks nodded, shame washing over her. "I was only trying to help," she told him. "Just...oh, I'm stupid sometimes."

"No," he said firmly. "You're wonderful. Like a whirlwind of colour. Vibrant...if a little misplaced sometimes."

She laughed out loud at his description of her; certain that he had pretty much got it spot on. Misplaced colour, she pondered; was that a positive thing? She supposed it was a little of both, and could live with that. She would rather be colour than muted beige.

"I...I can't take you seriously with that hat on," she realised, collapsing into a fit of giggles.

He joined her, taking the hat off with what looked like considerable relief. His hair stuck up a little, looking like it had had his agitated fingers in it all day. Christmas was hectic, she knew...she hoped that he had enjoyed it, and thanked Merlin that the full moon had not clashed with the big day itself.

They lay in silence for a while, taking in each other's faces, occasionally lifting a hand to trace a feature or lock of hair. Tonks nuzzled her nose against his, taking enormous comfort from the simple, innocent gesture. There was a time when she would never have pondered the fact that she could have Remus Lupin curled up against her on her sofa, free to do whatever she pleased with him. She smirked.

"What are you smiling at?" Remus asked, kissing the smirk away.

"You," she answered simply. "At the fact that you're here. With me. On my sofa..."

"Trapped between your feet? Which are extremely cold, if I may point out..."

"Hmm, exactly. And you're all mine," she growled, squirming against him, hitching her leg up his side a little.

Remus growled in response and flipped her over, leaving her gasping underneath him. He kissed her once, and pulled back. "Or are _you_ all _mine_?" he asked, dipping his head to kiss her neck.

"Same thing," she noted, her breath short.

His lips felt soft and pliant against hers, his skin smooth for a change; he must have shaved for Christmas day. She smiled against his kisses, and moved to shrug him out of his robes so that she could feel the softness of his jumper under her arms.

This was just as good as making love; this sweet intimacy where they could just hold and touch each other.

"You are staying, aren't you?" she asked.

"If you like," he replied, shifting off her back to their face-to-face pose. She gently tucked her hand under the front of his jumper, touching the smooth, flat skin of his stomach, and feeling it quiver slightly at the touch of her chilly hands.

"We should light a fire," he said absently, stroking her hair.

"Mmm, no point," she mumbled, feeling sleep's rich hold wash over her in delicious waves. "We can go to bed, if you want?"

She heard him pause for a moment, and then; "Alright. Are you going to get up and walk, or am I going to have to come across all gallant?"

"What do you-?"

She was saved an answered as he quickly hopped up off the cushions and hoisted her into his arms, making a small noise of effort as her weight sat heavily between his arms. He kept his back straight and walked quickly to the bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot and crossing the room so that he could dump her on the bed. She was awash with giddy laughter as he joined her, his face illuminated by the single lamp she had lit earlier.

"Remus," she gasped, impressed, moving to straddle him. "I had no idea you could be so...Gilderoy Lockhart..."

Remus snorted in amusement. "Of all the people to compare me to, you chose him?"

"I'm just saying, he always looked like the type to sweep a girl off her feet. Not anymore though, obviously. But still, the comparison stands. I can imagine him riding in on a white horse. And if that's what some witches are into, who am I to judge?"

Remus laughed breathlessly and sat up, cradling to her him playfully. "And is that what you're into?"

"The white horse thing? Merlin, no."

"So if I were to show up at the Ministry of Magic on a white horse, you would...?"

"Tell you to stop being such a prat and get down before the thing mistook my desk for the horse toilet. Besides, I'd probably end up tripping over its hooves anyway."

"Oh, yes they're very hazardous," Remus agreed teasingly. "So if it's not white horse's...what is it?"

"Hm? What does it for me? Oh, nothing too specific. A gentle, handsome werewolf would suit me nicely. Maybe an ex-marauder, about six foot three, sandy grey hair, blue eyes...maybe he'd be sensible but a noble git sometimes...but as I said, I wouldn't want to be too specifhmmmph-"

He cut her off with a firm kiss, and Tonks felt it right down to her toes.

"I suppose you're going to tell me all about your dream girl with pink hair and a clumsy disposition?"

"Of course not," he chuckled playfully. "That would be far corny beyond belief. I'm fairly certain that's straying into Gilderoy's territory. Besides, you already know how much I adore you."

"Hmm, can't say I do," Tonks feigned. "You may have to refresh my memory."

Remus lowered his head to kiss her neck, his lips soft as they skimmed the top of the purple jumper she wore. Her jeans suddenly felt restrictive and longed for the soft flannel pyjamas draped across the foot of her bed. She pushed him away and rose from his lap, ignoring his noise of protest, which quickly died as he noticed her undressing.

"Don't look so excited," Tonks laughed, pointing to the pyjamas.

"Ah," he smiled. "Pink ducks are very flattering."

"Shut up or I'll make _you_ wear them."

She noticed that he propped himself up at the head of the bed and watched her expectantly. "What, do you want a bloody show?" she asked. He shrugged, grinning boyishly at her and she blushed, making a point of wiggling her hips as she shed her jeans, and cursing herself for opting for plain cotton knickers. Soon she was clad in comfortable flannel, wanting nothing more than to curl up with him. It occurred to her that in the whirl of body heat and touching they may end up making love, but she wanted something for him to at least take off; last time she had been wearing just a robe.

She rather liked the idea of him unbuttoning her top...pulling her knickers down over her hips...

"Nymphadora?" his voice broke her free of her thoughts.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms outstretched to her; in invitation. She moved into him on bare feet, feeling his arms encircle her. The soft wool of his new jumper didn't smell like him yet; it smelt of Molly's cooking, but she buried her face in it nonetheless, making a mental note to be extra careful if the occasion called for her to remove it from him. It was light green and the wool felt expensive. She felt a rush of love for the Weasley matriarch; who else would offer such maternal love to a man so close to her own age?

She loved it when they could just be still like this; in each other's arms.

These were the moments that she locked away; never to be forgotten. She trusted him so strongly, but something told her she may need those memories one day...

She quelled her fear and kissed his shoulder, the pesky layers of clothing suddenly seeming stifling. Tonks pulled his jumper up over his head, ignoring his raised eyebrow. Her fingers traced the scars that she found there, and she pondered her next move. He seemed content to remain there and humour her every will.

She was just going to ask.

"Can you promise me..."

She broke off, unsure which promise she craved.

"Promise you what?" he asked tenderly, brushing a lock of her pink hair back.

"Forever," she blurted, feeling immediately foolish. "Can you promise me forever?"

Remus hesitated, his brow furrowed, his eyes deep in thought. "I can't say what the future will hold..."

"So you might go off me?" Tonks muttered, flushing.

He lifted her chin and she met his gaze. "No," he said with conviction. "I will not go off you. But...Nymphadora...who am I to predict what will happen. We could say forever, and then one of us could get hurt...or worse."

"I know that," she said. "Of course, I do. It was a silly thing to ask."

"No, I'm glad you did. I can promise you as long as we have, Nymphadora. And for as long as we have, I'll be here."

"How long will that be?" she asked.

"I can't tell you that," he told her regretfully.

She bit her lip. "What if...what if we don't have very long at all, Remus? It's so scary, the amount of things that could take us away from each other. But...you'd never leave me if you could help it?"

"No, never," he said with firm, honest resolve.

Tonks nodded, not sure if she was placated. He fell back, clad in only his trousers, and took her with him. She landed in a pyjama-clad heap across his chest, and stayed there for a while, listening to the steady rhythm of his hearts. There was a thin scar just over his heart which curved around down to his sternum and out again. She traced it with her fingertip, and felt him sigh, obviously enjoying her touch too much to stop her.

"You can barely see them," she whispered against his skin.

"I can see them," was his short response. "Come on, it's chilly."

He guided them under the covers, stopping to shed his trousers and socks. Tonks wriggled under the array of blankets and throws, thankful of the weight of them against her tired body; they were like a warm hug. Not that she needed them to be, with Remus climbing in beside her. He spooned up behind her, and she instantly missed his face, wriggling over to face him.

"I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable," she told him sincerely. "But you have to get used to this. I'm not going to skirt around things. I love all of you. If you had paws and a tail I'd still love you."

"I highly doubt that," Remus said.

"Well, they'd get in the way a bit, but that's not the point. The point is that I don't care about the scars. To me it's like they're not there. They're just a part of you...and you're gorgeous."

Tonks blinked up at him, worried that he use of words may, once again, make him feel awkward. He was gazing down at her as though confused, and she traced his lovely lips with the tip of her thumb, feeling his gaze steady on her face.

"Is... that alright?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh, yes," he said, a smile in his voice. "That's very alright."

"Good," she grinned. "Now...it's come to my attention that you've been pretty lax when it comes to the skilful removal of my clothes. Are you planning to do something about that, or do I have to turn up naked from now on?"

"That sounds a rather clever idea actually..."

"Oh, shut up and take my clothes off. And I want all the smutty clichés thrown in for good measure. Except the horse, you can leave that out if you want. But as for the knickers flung across the room in a fit of passion and the sweet nothings whispered in my ear, I want no expenses spared, Lupin..."

He grinned and got to work slowly removing her pyjamas.

Tonks thought as he gently shifted his kisses down towards her breasts, whispering teasing nonsense, that some kind of clichés she could tolerate.

Even if she would have to scramble around in the dark afterwards to find her discarded knickers on the bedroom floor...

* * *

There was no excuse for waking her up.

And no where he could hide just as soon as she woke enough to be able to hit him.

"Get away," she grumbled, swatting him as he gently roused her from sleep.

"Nymphadora," he sighed, exasperated. "It's after midday. Surely you can't still need sleep. I thought we could spend the day together."

Tonks was touched, but bed seemed more appealing. "We can spend the day together," she mumbled, "sleeping...it's called a compromise."

She felt him curl closer to her, his naked body against her back, and she sighed, remembering the night before. His arm gently curled around her bare stomach, and she was suddenly glad that she hadn't been able to find her knickers last night; it meant that every inch of him could press against every inch of her. She laced her fingers through his and felt him sigh in defeat, his body relaxing.

But suddenly, she felt very awake, and sighed in regret, not wanting to leave the warm embrace of the bed; this peace they had created around them on this one day when they wouldn't be disturbed.

"Your hair's my colour," he whispered against the back of her head, and she agreed disinterestedly.

Eventually, they got up, bleary and satisfied, and soon were roaming around the flat freshly washed and dressed.

"Have you seen this?" Tonks asked, plonking herself next to him on the sofa and holding out the freshly delivered Daily Prophet.

**_Unfit to be Headmaster_**

_As the Christmas break comes to an end, Hogwarts parents fear sending Children back to school._

It was the usual slander; a load of bollocks to discredit Dumbledore.

As such, she was hugely shocked as she turned the page and was confronted with the blinking face of the very man sitting next to her. Remus stared out from the page, looking mildly confused and affronted. Remus snatched the paper from her hands and stared down at it in horror; the two page spread. It must have been like a time turner sending him back to two years ago.

He read it; brow furrowed, and stood up, his shoulders hunched.

Tonks was almost scared to look, but did.

**_Ex-Student speaks out about Hogwarts Werewolf Terror_**

_The creature that so nearly killed our innocent children. _

_You may remember the story of Remus J Lupin (left); a werewolf hired by Dumbledore two years ago to fill the notoriously cursed position of Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Ironic, that Lupin being a dark creature himself, would be offered the position. Towards the end of his first year, Lupin ventured out into the grounds, knowing full well that it was a full moon, and transformed..._

_Now, two years after the event, Ex-Hogwarts Student Ivy Maybourne speaks out about the harrowing ordeal of having a werewolf teaching her and her classmates. _

Tonks closed the paper with a frustrated sigh, not wanting to hear anymore.

"They want to discredit Dumbledore," Tonks sighed, eyeing his tense back warily. "Everyone knows it's a load of drivel..."

"Do they?" Remus sighed. "I had bottles thrown at me on the streets the last time these sorts of things were published."

He hung his head, raking his fingers through his hair, and Tonks felt her eyes well up in sadness for him. She could do nothing but curl herself around his back, wrapping her arms around his slim middle, burying her face between her shoulder blades and hope that she was helping. She felt the shakiness of his breathing and for the first time knew that he was scared. Truly scared.

"Come...sit down with me," she urged, tugging on his hand and guiding him onto the sofa. He looked a little shell-shocked. "Remus, the story is stale now. No one's going to remember, and people will have calmed down by now if they do. Besides, they're just ignorant gits."

"It was bad enough having people _remember_ me from an article two years ago, but this is here and now, Tonks. This is fresh. Oh, I'm such a fool. Someone had gone to the Prophet with their story about how I..." he picked up the read from it; "...would often turn up late to classes looking dirty and displayed a scatty sense of organisation."

He hunched over, clutching his hair is desperate clump. She rubbed his back in soothing circles, hoping that she was helping.

If she could have gone up to the rooftop and screamed that she was in love with the best man in the world and that man was Remus Lupin, she would have.

Gently, she nuzzled the shell of his ear with her nose, and felt him sigh, his body relaxing a fraction. Still, she didn't let up, wrapping her arms around him. She had to leave no room for doubt; no time for him to ponder that maybe he wasn't good enough for her...

He wasn't getting away.

"Don't let them do this to you, Remus," Tonks whispered, "you're better than all of them."

He said nothing, but took her hand in his.

He was unnaturally quiet for the rest of the day, but eventually lightened in spirits, helping her construct their dinner from the leftovers her mother had piled upon her after the oversized Christmas feast for three. She teased him as he chopped up turkey and vegetables and she fried some chips. He smiled lovingly across at her, and she saw what they could be; just for a second. So together and normal; so in love. They could do this every night. He could be here every night.

But she knew it wouldn't be that easy.

Something was going to come along, and they would simply have to fit themselves around it.

"Do you fancy going out somewhere?" Tonks asked, trying to sound casual. She knew the moment she looked at him that she had said the wrong thing He flinched as thought she had slapped him across the face.

"No, I don't think that would be wise right now," he told her softly, meeting her eyes.

He put an array of vegetables in a colander and washed them, shaking off the droplets of water from his hands.

"Sorry, stupid question," she muttered, feeling warm. "But, I don't feel ashamed, Remus."

"I know," he replied simply.

"I want to walk around holding hands with you," she said strongly, hands on her hips. "I want everyone to know that we're together, and that you're the best thing in the world. You understand that, don't you?"

"I know that," he nodded, closing his eyes briefly. "And every day I thank Merlin that I've found you."

"Well," Tonks said, feeling a little bashful. "That's good, then."

He closed the distance between them in a few heavy strides and tugged her into his tight, warm embrace. She returned the squeeze, pulled up onto her tiptoes by the weight of his affection. He nuzzled the side of her face, her neck, her forehead...His stubble was starting to grow back, and she relished the noise it made against her skin. She resolved the make sure her hair was the pinkest it could be, just to show him how happy he made her. He pressed a kiss against the outlandish crown of hair and pulled back to look at her face.

"Fancy going to try out a few more of those bedroom clichés?" Tonks teased.

"Oh, I think we ticked them all off the list," Remus chuckled.

"Well, if you want to be pedantic, you haven't thrown me over your shoulder and carried me gorilla-style to the bedroom..." Tonks reminded him coyly. "And I recall no candles hovering over the bed, let alone rose petals."

"And this is something you wish I'd do?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really," Tonks said, wrinkling her nose as she thought about it. "We need to think of some more clichés..."

"Hmm, indeed," he agreed. "I shall do just that next time you decide to sleep until one in the afternoon."

"Well, you would insist on keeping me up all night."

He chuckled, his cheeks flushing a little.

"I think we'll turn into turkeys soon," Tonks stated as she piled huge quantities of the leftover meat onto each plate. "Did Molly make enough for everyone?"

"Oh, yes," Remus replied, preparing some gravy. "I do believe that she kept Harry at the table for two hours by refilling his plate. No matter how much he eats, I'm convinced he will never be a weight that Molly will approve of."

"I remember at Hogwarts all the boys of Harry's age looked like they needed a few square meals. I'll bet you were on the lanky side."

Remus hummed in agreement, and Tonks hoped for a moment that he was about to tell her something more about his school days; she loved hearing the stories. "It came with the affliction, I'm afraid. I will never carry extra weight, I'm afraid, no matter how much food Molly burdens me with."

Tonks thought carefully. "I can't think of a chubby werewolf," she admitted, and he laughed.

"The transformation requires too much energy. Any spare is eaten up during the process."

"You should let me see you after transformations," Tonks muttered, remembering that one morning she had gone to see him, and he had told her never to do it again. "Last time...you said you were lucky that time. But when you transform without Wolfsbane...you're really suffering?"

Remus paused, and looked as though he was debating telling her the truth. "Yes," he said. "Without Wolfsbane, it's considerably more distressing. But Sirius can transform. It's better than last year. And I have somewhere to stay. Believe me, Tonks; I'm more comfortable than I've been in years. There is no need for you to see me...like that."

"I can handle it, you know," she urged him.

"I know you can," he said calmly. "But...well, forgive my male pride, but I'm simply not comfortable with you seeing me so weak. It's more to do with my dignity than anything else."

They sat down to eat their dinners. The turkey was a little dry, and the gravy lumpy, but they endured it in sweet, companionable silence. The evening was drawing in outside, and Tonks reached over to put the wireless on.

It was a move she instantly regretted, as the evening news crackled into the quiet of the room.

"_In other news, a former student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has spoken out about her year in the hands of a werewolf teacher...the Dark Creature in question, Remus Lupin, was appointed by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore two years ago..."_

"Ah! Damn it!" Tonks had caught her heel on the leg of the table in an attempt to scramble to her feet and switch the hateful words off.

Remus, solemn faced and a little pale, gave a flick of his wand, leaving onto the silence of their thoughts. It rang around the room, bouncing off all the walls; the hatred that was spewing out of the Ministry towards this wonderful man. Her wonderful Remus. He sat perfectly still, a piece of turkey still speared on his fork from when he had stopped the listen. He set the utensils down and stared at his plate.

Tonks was at a loss; she had no idea what to say to him. No idea what he needed.

"Remus?" she asked tentatively, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. He didn't move.

She knelt down beside his chair, and saw the anguish in his eyes. He looked utterly lost; like a boy.

All she could do was take his face in her hands and draw him down for the strongest kiss she could manage. He didn't respond for a moment, but then she felt his lips slide alongside hers. None of the tension had left him, but she knew that she needed to distract him and give the rawest of the wounds a little time to heal.

Remus stood, pulling her up with him, and gripped her tightly in his arms. Tonks opened her eyes, his mouth still locked against hers, and saw his eyelids shut and his brow furrowed as he tried so hard to force the memories from his mind.

She could do this for him.

"Don't let it..." she was cut off by his mouth on hers once again, "don't let them...get to you..."

He gave no response, but walked her backwards until she felt the sofa against the back of her knees. She fell down into the welcoming cushions, pulling him down with her. But he refused to move; simply looking down at her with unsure, despairing eyes. Grabbing the front of his jumper, not caring if it stretched, Tonks yanked him down, and he went more willingly this time, taking a moment to simply bury his head in the curve of her neck and hold her tightly against him.

He seemed to be waiting for her to make the next move, but she wasn't quite sure what he needed. Did he need to lie like this and take simple comfort in her embrace, or did he need her to make love to him?

"Are you alright?" Tonks asked. "What can I do?"

He sighed against her neck, and she felt it as a steady stream of warm air against her skin. Pleasant goosebumps rose at the sensation.

"You don't have to do anything," he told her quietly.

"I want to," she contradicted, rubbing at his back. "Let me make it better."

He needed to feel human, she realised. He needed to erase all the slander and get back down to the man he was.

Gently, she began to work on removing his robes, a plan in her mind. He said nothing to stop her, but did not help either, only moving to lift whichever body part needed to be lifted to free him of the garments. She folded his clothes roughly, one by one, and placed them by the side of the sofa. They ended up side by side; an imitation of that last night when everything had seemed so light and hopeful.

She hooked her thumbs in the waist band of his shorts and tugged, ridding him of the last piece of clothing and leaving him naked. She pulled a blanket across him, aware of the cool air in her lounge. He was watching her with curious eyes, silent and intense.

When she began to remove her own robes, he stopped her fingers and took over, his brow furrowed in concentration as he quickly and efficiently disposed of the barriers between them. She felt her breath hitch as he ducked under the blankets and tugged her out of her knickers. She kicked them the rest of the way off as he returned, his face still hard.

He fingers went to her breast, but she stopped him.

"I just thought we could lie here...like this," she explained, biting her lip a little. "Just for a while. I thought it might help."

He looked touched, a small smile gracing his lips. It worried her how quiet he was being, and she snuggled against him under the blanket, resting her head against his warm chest, her leg draping over him hips, feeling how ready he was should they decide to heat things up. But Tonks held fast, thinking that to make love now would be an act of all the wrong reasons. This could make him feel just as human; to be naked with her, and love her so tenderly.

"Please talk to me," she whispered against the fleshy part of his shoulder.

"What would you like me to talk about?"

"Anything. Just tell me anything."

"I don't know what to say," he admitted quietly, and so Tonks dropped it.

She felt his body tense a little as she pressed her naked breasts against the side of him, but with a few calming breaths he seemed to relax, and slid an arm around her back to hold to against him. She hummed in comfort, pressing a kiss against his collarbone. He angled his head down towards her, his lips brushing the top of her head, and Tonks breathed a sigh of relief that she seemed to be helping.

"Better?" she asked, and felt his nod against her head.

"Much better," he agreed. "Thank you."

She leant up and caught his lips between hers, no longer in the mood to be chaste. He seemed to understand immediately, shifting her down so he could lie half over her, she moaned and stroked a hand down his lovely back, feeling him shiver in pleasure as her hand rested in the dip at the bottom of his spine.

"Hmm," she sighed in appreciation as his hand found her soft, round breast and cupped it gently in his careful fingers.

This was them; together.

Wanting to move freely, she pushed him onto his back. He went willingly, reaching for her and helping her to gently place herself astride his hips.

The world stood still, but the sky drew darker outside, until she could see nothing but the blue hue which the night had cast over his damp skin. She let her back arch, blanket falling away as she moved atop of him, each touch of his fingers singing through her skin. He moaned, arched and looked at her as though she was the most precious things on earth. They found solace in each other, both needing the comfort.

A damp sweat broke out in the small of her back, and his hands felt hot enough to burn her skin as they clutched at her, his head falling back into the cushions and his throat working with every desperate sound he made.

Remus laced her fingers through his, palm to palm as she cried out the last of her pleasure, her rhythm a little erratic, and through the haze of her orgasm she felt him tense and then relax beneath her. She let herself slump onto his chest, his heart pounding in her ear. He kissed her limp hair and shifted down, so they could snuggle closer, catching their breaths.

It was so dark outside, Tonks could barely make out the other side of the room, but neither of them wanted to move, especially not to break the sweet silence they had created.

"If only they all knew what I knew," Tonks whispered, and felt his chin scratch against her forehead. "If only they all knew how wonderful you are, Remus. I wish I could tell them all."

"You can't," he said, so quietly she had to strain to hear him. "But so long as you know, that's enough for me."

"I do know," she confirmed. "And I feel so lucky."

He shifted her off him so they could lie facing each other. His face looked flushed and his eyes alive. She could practically see the path her fingers had taken through his hair and she smirked up at the mess she had made of it.

Neither of them spoke of love. Neither of them needed to. It rang, so heavily unsaid in the air that to utter the words would have diminished the feeling.

No matter what the world threw at them, she would be there with him. They could try to bring him down, and she would build him back up again.

Together, no one could touch them.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this rather action!light chapter. I felt it important that we see them in moments of peace like this to give the relationship a more solid, intimate foundation. **

**As always, feedback is highly appreicated.**


	16. Auld Lang Syne

**There is, ahem, some rather adult content in this chapter. Thank you to all that have reviewed, please keep giving feedback. Enjoy the latest installment.  
**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Auld Lang Syne

"...he hasn't been seen for weeks. He told Dumbledore that he was just staying here for a week, and that was at the beginning of the month..."

Kingsley's deep words didn't quite register. Something else had taken prime place in her mind, pushing everything else out of the way completely. She got the gist of things; Dedalus Diggle was missing, and hadn't been seen all through December. They were there to find him.

A task which required sense and concentration; something she didn't usually have a problem with.

If Tonks was truthful, her mind was elsewhere, following the path of Remus' lips down the hollow of her quivering stomach...

She needed to focus. This was important.

"Tonks?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she told Kingsley vaguely as they walked along the little cobbled street, following a line of cottages. They were on the Cornish coast, coming to up the cottage in which Dedalus had told Dumbledore he was staying. Somewhere deep in her stomach, Tonks felt a sense of guilt. Dedalus could be in danger, and she was having bloody difficulties thinking of anything but Remus' hands clutching at her hips, and the way he would smile against the skin of her breast whenever she made a noise he _really_ liked...

Oh, Merlin. What was wrong with her?

"Are you sure you're alright? You seem a little..."

Remus' breath against the back of her knee, as he lowered her jeans and followed the path of exposed skin with his mouth, the feel of his slim hips under her bottom - between her legs...

"...distant..."

"I'm fine, Kingsley," she assured him, wondering if he would notice if she gave herself a short, sharp slap around the face.

Was this what such a sex life did to a person? Was everyone this unfocused?

Perhaps it was good that they had been assigned new partners in the Order. If he was here, right now, instead of Kingsley, she wouldn't know how to contain herself. They would get no work done. Of course, he seemed much more capable of controlling himself in the presence of other Order members, so perhaps he would have kept things professional nonetheless? Either way, it would have been too great a temptation to push him against the nearest wall and...

"What are you doing tonight?" she blurted, trying to change the direction of her thoughts. "New Year's eve, remember? Anything special?"

"I was going to call in at Headquarters, actually," Kingsley replied, looking relieved that she was finally communicating normally. "And yourself?"

"The same," Tonks grinned, "I'll see you there. I hear Molly's going all out with food."

Kingsley laughed for a moment, before growing solemn. "Hopefully, if all goes well, we'll be able to wish Dedalus a Happy New Year tonight, too."

Tonks swallowed the lump in her throat.

The wind was cool and strong, and Tonks felt her eyes sting. The little street of pastel cottages seemed to stretch forever, winding and swerving down hills. Christmas garnishes hung on the doors, looking a little sad and wilted and redundant, and Tonks felt a wave of longing for the Boxing Day she had spent so deliciously with Remus. Somewhere out of sight, the crashing of waves ripped through the streets, carried by the wind, and Tonks could taste salt water in the air.

The cottage that Dedalus had been supposedly staying in turned out to be deserted; Dedalus' things were littered about the place, but the fire was burnt out.

So they had no choice but to scour the streets, in the hope that he would show up. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing. Tonks could sense the same restless spirit in Kingsley that she felt in herself; the need to do something, no matter how likely it was to produce an outcome. Just to feel as though they did everything they could have to ensure they found the little wizard in question. Perhaps it was an Auror thing.

They split up eventually, and Tonks headed towards the front; if she was visiting a seaside village, she knew where she would be.

Not quite sure if she was hopeful or not, she walked briskly along the sandy footpath, scanning the steep, rocking beach at the base of the cliffs. After an hour or so, she stopped for a break, sitting down with her feet dangling off the edge. It was deserted; no tourists at this time of the year, and everyone had buried themselves in the warmth of their cottages for the winter.

It was them that she saw it; a tiny little figure on the opposite side of the cliff.

A figure with the unmistakeable silhouette of a top hat illuminated against the white, cloudy sky.

Tonks' heart pounded as she ran full tilt towards him, finally giving in and apparating as close as she could. The wind howled, and she was faced with the back of Dedalus Diggle, looking down and out over the raging tide as though he would like nothing better than to throw himself off.

Cautiously, she stepped up so she was level with him.

"Dedalus?" she tried. He jumped visibly at the sight of her, looking as though he couldn't quite believe his eyes. "Wotcher. It's just me. What are you doing up here, Dedalus?"

"I..." he stammered, his voice squeaky, and tears began to run down his pale face, into the white cloud of beard at his chin. "Oh, Tonks, my dear. Why did you have to come now?"

"Dedalus," Tonks began slowly. "I know things are hard. I know...I know that it might seem impossible to cope...with your wife gone. But, trust me, we'll help you. You're not alone."

"But I am," Dedalus contradicted, a little too matter-of-factly for Tonks' liking. "My dear, you have your whole life before you. You're young. I'm too old for this war. And I have no wish to fight alone. And nothing to fight for."

"We'll fight for Harry, then? Both of us; we'll fight for Harry Potter," Tonks encouraged, eyeing the edge of the cliff. "Dedalus, just come away from the edge so we can talk properly."

He didn't move. "A new year," he said, almost wistfully. "I...I'm not so sure that I want to see it."

"Dedalus," Tonks pleaded. "You don't have to do this. Everyone in the Order loves you. We're all your family."

"June was my family," Dedalus said. "And she was taken from me."

"Then fight for her!" Tonks tried. "Fight for June. She wouldn't want this, would she? She would want you to keep fighting. You've survived a war already because you're a great wizard and we need you."

For the first time, Dedalus looked a little hesitant as he looked down towards the raging waves, and Tonks felt a small burst of relief.

"Here," she offered. "Just take my hand, and we'll go. You know what I'm like; cliffs aren't the best place for clumsy witches. Please, Dedalus?"

He gripped her hand tightly, and together they walked away from the edge. She replaced the hand to rest in her crook of her elbow and led him to safety, all the while telling her heart to stop pounding and her hands to stop trembling.

"I had been standing there for three hours, you know," Dedalus told her.

"You must be freezing," Tonks said, "We'll get you home, and you can come to Headquarters tonight to celebrate New Year with us; how does that sound?"

Dedalus looked as though he could cry. "That sounds wonderful. I've had too much time to think out here."

Tonks nodded, and together they walked until they found Kingsley. None of them mentioned the circumstances under which Tonks had found the small wizard, and all she could do was be thankful that she had found him when she did. Kingsley seemed just as happy as she had been; Order members felt like family now, and when a member of the family was absent, they all felt it like a hole in their hearts.

"How did you find him?" Kingsley asked, his voice low in her ear.

"I just bumped into him on the street," Tonks lied. Kingsley frowned and looked a little disbelieving, but nodded anyway.

The wind whipped through her hair, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't quite sure if she should tell anyone about what Dedalus had almost done; was it any of her business to tell? Would he want anyone to know?

But still, with the missing wizard back amongst them, the New Year loomed a little brighter.

* * *

Dedalus was welcomed back at Headquarters with open arms, Molly drying her eyes happily on the edge of her apron. Still, the tiny wizard didn't quite manage a genuine smile, and Tonks felt a wave of sadness at the thought of what he must be going through; to lose his wife so tragically, and to be in the midst of a war.

The night was still fairly young, and the party had not yet bloomed to its full potential. Harry and the children sat at the table, clutching butterbeers. Tonks eyes scanned the room, flitting over Emmeline and Hestia and Sirius, and finally finding Remus, being held in conversation with Hermione Granger. Tonks smiled, and moved a little closer. Remus met her eyes over the young witches head.

"As I've said before, it's all a case of misunderstanding. No one will believe what's written in the Prophet, Professor. When I saw it I couldn't believe they would stoop so low to discredit Professor Dumbledore."

"I don't think there's anything the Ministry won't do to discredit him, unfortunately, Hermione," Remus agreed, a little sadly.

"But still," Hermione continued. "It's completely disgusting what they've done."

"Indeed. If only more people thought like you," Remus smiled, and Tonks saw for a moment how brilliant a teacher Remus was. "Excuse me for a moment, Hermione."

He swerved around the young witch, his eyes still locked on Tonks. Hermione had drifted back to her seat at the table, looking pleased at the compliment he had paid her. Tonks tried to look casual as Remus approached her, but couldn't help the grin that slid onto her face at the sight of him, finally, after all she had thought about all day had been him.

"Wotcher," she smiled, her voice shaking a little.

"Hello," he breathed into her ear, and Tonks felt her eyes drift shut.

But then he was gone, suddenly all too aware of where they were and who they were with. Tonks tried not to feel disappointed. Everything was going hazy, until all she could feel was the soft brush of his shoulder against hers.

"Well done on finding Dedalus," Remus told her quietly. "You did wonderfully."

They took a moment to watch the wizard, clutching a butterbeer and fending off Molly's fussing. Tonks sighed, and remember how he had looked, at the top of that cliff, his top hat sitting on his head; so ready to jump. She would never tell a living soul.

As covertly as she possibly could, she hooked a finger around one of his, not feeling able to tell him what she had seen that day, but still needing him to comfort her. His skin was rough and warm and she felt her muscles ease a little at the feel of him. He was right there, on the brink of a new year, with her. A new year that would start with him and end with him, if she had her way. They could put the hurts of the past behind them and plunge bravely into this fresh start. Perhaps the New Year would see the end of the war.

And just maybe, they would build a life together.

"Oh, Remus and Tonks!" Molly's voice broke through her musings, and she instantly dropped Remus' hand. "I must have a picture of you both."

The red-haired witch had acquired a camera, and was circulating the room, snapping images of people as they celebrated with their drinks and food in hand. Remus smiled down at her and they both looked towards the lense of the camera. "Get in closer, dears. And smile!"

Remus slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, a true, blooming smile on her face. The camera took its image in a puff of smoke, and Molly's eyes looked a little watery. Truly this was a night of joy, and miracles and love. What was a war when there were nights like this?

Even when Molly had walked away to chose her next victim, Remus kept his arm about her shoulders. Tonks leaned into him, inhaling the comforting presence. No one was looking at them, wrapped up in their own celebrations and conversations. She noticed Sirius glance over at them more than once, but he hadn't approached. He was in deep conversation with Hestia and Mundungus (who looked a little inebriated already), and Tonks wondered if he was staying away on purpose.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you all day," Tonks muttered against his jumper. "I wished you were there...especially when..."

When what? When she had found Dedalus within an inch of his life? She shook her head, not willing her finish her sentence.

"I think," Remus said slowly, "that I'm not in much of a party spirit tonight."

"What, you-" Tonks was cut off as she nudged his head in the direction of the door, and she smirked in realisation.

They wound their way through the growing throng of people, not caring who they ignored, or who wanted to talk to them. She was utterly consumed by him, to the point where she was certain it was unhealthy. Carefully, she followed him, trying not to look conspicuous. But as soon as they were up the stairs and safely out of view, he had pressed her against the wall and covered her mouth with his.

"Mmmph," she managed in appreciation, and he gave an answering moan. She wound her hands through his hair, letting her tongue slide along his. She couldn't feel her legs or the wall against her back, or the floor beneath her feet. It was just him; his long, strong body holding her there. The room span and swung in a daze, and she clutched his shoulders tighter as she hurtled through the wave of sensation.

It took a few moments to register the fact that he had swung them both around, and that the crack of apparition had broken through the quiet of the room. Still, she had no objections when she felt the slow creak as the back of her knees caught the edge of his bed, and he gave her a soft, playful push so she tumbled onto the bed in a fit of breathy laughter.

"Someone's eager," she muttered, hearing the thump as his shoes dropped to the floor. Remus gave a noise of agreement, and she let herself fall back against the springy mattress, still fully clothed. She was desperate to feel the air against her bare skin, but she wanted him to undress her; wanted a slow build up and an explosive union. The slow, warm feel of his palms running over her. Impatient, she sat up, and tugged on his hands, pulling him forward into a kiss. His hand sat just below her ear, and Tonks took it, placing it impatiently over her breast.

"Be patient," he reminded her playfully, and Tonks, no longer sure why she had craved a slow build up, let herself fall back down onto his bed.

Remus smirked down at her, carefully sliding her shoes and socks off. Tonks drew in a shaky breath as he pressed his lips to the aching arch of her foot, then her ankle. He looked up at her with such love and attention and rapture, that she found her willpower utterly resolved. Whatever he wanted to do; whether it was to make her wait or have her quickly. She didn't mind; she just wanted him.

He deftly unfastened the button on her jeans, and tugged them swiftly down her legs, leaving more skin for his mouth to explore. Tonks closed her eyes and tried to slow her heart, not quite sure if she trusted herself not to throw him down on the bed and have her way with him right there and then. But, oh...he was leaning over her, his mouth nipping gently at the skin on her thigh. She tangled her fingers through his hair, unable to voice anything.

She couldn't bear it.

"Clothes," she told him, and it came out husky and not at all like her voice. "Please."

Remus met her eyes for a moment in the darkened room; his lips parted, and then began to quickly shed his robes, all pretence of taking this slowly flung out the window. Tonks watched him, the half-moon outside illuminating each contour and dip and scar. Desperate to hurry things along and feel his skin against hers, she shed her robes and t-shirt, feeling the cool air prickling gently at her upper body.

The rattle of the party downstairs; the sound of their sharp breaths, and the howl of the wind outside...it was all so heady, and she tucked her fingers in the waistband of his trousers and tugged him towards her, kneeling upright on the bed so she could press herself firmly against him. His mouth found hers, and this time his hands found her breasts of their own accord, squeezing her through the satiny fabric before ridding her of the blasted thing altogether. Her nipples pebbled in the cool room, and he watched her face for a moment, his thumb brushing the tip. She felt herself moan as want shot through her body and spread like fire, settling between her legs.

In a sudden, breathless frenzy, she undid the clasp of his trousers and shoved them down his legs, along with his underwear. He helped, kicking them from under him and shoving them away, leaving him free to cup under her bottom and lift her further up the bed. She was oblivious to any sound she was making; growls, moans, sighs, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that her Remus was here, and she was all but naked on his bed.

There was the chink of glasses downstairs, and the clock read half-past eleven, and Tonks threw her head back as he gently took a hard nipple between his lips.

"Will they notice...that we've gone?" Tonks asked breathlessly.

"Right at this moment," Remus said, tracing his tongue between her breasts and down to swirl around her navel, "I'm not inclined to care."

"Oh," she sighed, and he pressed a gently kiss against the fabric of her knickers. "Oh, I _love_ you."

Before she could remember her own name, he had hooked his fingers in her underwear and ridded her of them, leaving them both exposed. Tonks couldn't quite find her breath, and wondered how he could keep so..._composed_.

She could fix that.

Shoving him to lie back against the bed, Tonks straddled him. He looked shocked and pleased and oh, so beautiful like that; between her thighs, his head against the cushions and his cheeks flushed. She could feel him; that wonderful, firm pressure against the side of her thigh. And for her; just for her - this wonderful man.

Remus sat up, holding her firmly in his lap. She could feel the strength of his arm around her waist, and the gentle dampness between her thighs, and she wondered if she could sob with happiness. From where he was between her thighs, she could feel the teasing brush between her legs, and it sent tingles down her bones like a current. She buried her face in his shoulder, and bit down when she felt his fingers gently slip down to tease between her legs, his thumb just grazing the sensitive little bundle of nerves at the front, before his hand shifted and she felt a finger slip inside her.

"Remus," she breathed, feeling him gently twist the pressure inside her. She cried out, clutching at his shoulders. "Oh, _Merlin_."

She couldn't hear the party downstairs now; it all became a pounding roar in her ears. She felt his lips at her ear, hushing her and a soothing palm stroked through her hair as she moved like a pulse against his achingly long fingers. She bit down on her own lip so hard it hurt, and when he lowered his head to breast, she cried out in earnest.

At that moment, Tonks half believed it was possible to combust from this.

He came up to kiss her, his face a little damp and his eyes impossibly dark. Before she could blink, his fingers had left her, and he was gently lowering her down, gasping as he filled her. Tonks' head felt too heavy for her neck and she let it fall back, and called out so loud it echoed through the room. Her body sang with him; the inside of her slick and aching for him, and her hips moved almost of their own accord, seeking his pressure in the very corners of her deepest pleasure.

Remus was gasping, and his arm went around her waist to calm her frantic movements. For a moment, he held her still, and Tonks thought she might scream. His damp forehead came to rest against hers, and she saw him steady himself against the mattress, his arm taut and strong behind him.

"Remus..." she managed, and it sounded needier than she would have liked.

"I know, sweetheart," he breathed against her cheek. "Just be still for a moment."

Her heart glowed with the endearment, but she was finding the notion of staying still with his hard length filling her like that more and more impossible. Every clench of her body drew and gasp from him, and Tonks wondered if that was why she needed to be still; to give him time to compose himself.

When she tried rocking her hips slowly against his, this time he let het. He reached and pressed and slid back and forth just slightly; just enough to make her want to scream in pleasure and the need for more. Half of her was content with this, and the other half wanted quick, hard and deep. But, as she gently brushed her mouth across his soft lips, she couldn't quite think of anything better than moving like this in his lap for all eternity.

Tonks felt him reach for something, and then the softness of a woolly blanket around their hips, protecting her damp skin from the ever-cooling air.

She grinned at Remus. "Cosy," she teased, and he promptly wiped the smile off her face with a hand snaked between their bodies.

He was moving beneath her now, sliding deeper and pushing against entirely new places, and she muffled her moans into his shoulder, feeling so at one with him that she never wanted to leave his arms. Her breasts pushed firmly against her chest, and she rode him and his thumb was pushing just there again and he was teaching her just how deep her body went...

She clung to him, feeling her hands slide against the slick skin of his back, and made the most desperate of cries against his neck, tangling her fingers into his damp hair and holding into anything she could reach.

She heard the cries of 'Happy New Year!' from downstairs, and the distant chimes of midnight, but couldn't bring herself to care.

When she came, it gripped her stronger than she had ever felt before; wave after wave of clutching, all consuming release which pulsed through her and she couldn't even cry out. All she could feel was her back arching and the firmness of Remus inside her as her body clenched and released, only to tighten again. It became so intense that she was almost too sensitive, but the sensations kept her moving.

Finally, the world came back to her, and she struggled to catch her breath. Remus was watching her, his lips slightly parted, and his length still hard inside her. She whimpered, feeling boneless, and moved against him, watching him as he slowly began to lose control, eventually throwing his head back and crying out, guiding her hips down.

Collapsed and panting, she lay against his chest, her body like jelly.

"Oh," she gasped. He muttered a vague agreement against her hair. "We missed New Year."

"On the contrary, I can't think of a better way to celebrate," Remus muttered against her hair.

"Do we have to go downstairs?" Tonks asked, curling into his side.

He tugged the blanket up from around her hips and covered them both, pressing a gentle kiss against the top of her head. "No," he whispered. "We'll stay here."

Tonks hummed her appreciation and closed her eyes, finding his hand and holding it. "What do you think the New Year has in store?" she asked. "...for us?"

"Who knows?" he replied. She felt a pressure against her chin, and he gently tilted her face to look at his. "I've told you before...we can't afford the luxury of assuming things won't be complicated. You know that, don't you?"

"I think so," Tonks said.

She saw him look a little worried. "Tonks, you know that I would never leave this...that I could never hurt you. But sometimes these things...they happen against out will. Anything could separate us."

"I have faith in us, though," Tonks argued. "I have faith in this."

Gently, she shifted her off him so he could shift down and lie facing her. His face was tender and gentle, and his eyes looked a little damp. "With all my heart I want this to work," he told her sincerely. "Even if I do think I'm a little old for you..."

"You didn't have any objections a few minutes ago," Tonks reminded him, tickling his sensitive ribs. He smiled a stilled her fingers, bringing her hand up to his mouth for a kiss.

"But I can't change the fact that we're in a war. We can never have something simple and uncomplicated."

"I'm willing to take that risk," Tonks insisted.

His fingers stroked the soft skin in the small of her back, and she sighed, relaxing against his touch. Their love making had left her spent, and sleep suddenly seemed so right; the pillow was just the right shape, and the blanket was just warm enough, and Remus was there next to her, caressing her as she drifted off.

Happy New Year, indeed.

"You can be such a git, sometimes, Remus," she muttered, through her sleepy haze.

"Oh?" he asked, sounding a little amused.

"If you keep talking about having to leave me after you make love to me like that, I might have to hex you into next Thursday."

He chuckled, and pressed a kiss against her forehead, and Tonks opened her eyes. His face looked worried, and she tucked herself closer against him, trying to block out the slight well of tears she had glimpsed in the corners of his eyes. It was fine, she told herself; he wouldn't leave her. They would always be together; how could they not be?

But still, he kept quiet.

Did he honestly believe they would be separated?

"You scare me with talk like this," she admitted. "It's like you're always trying to prepare me, but then you still tell me that you'll be with me for as long as we have. Why can't that be forever?"

"Because I could die," he reminded her. "You could...you could die. We hardly have a say in the matter. These things just happen, usually without any warning."

"Well, aren't you a ray of eternal bloody sunshine?" Tonks muttered, rolling over.

He made a frustrated sigh behind her. "Nymphadora..." she didn't respond.

If she was truthful, she just didn't want him to see the tears falling down her face. Between them, they had a habit of this; of taking a perfect moment and somehow ruining it. All that talk of death; she knew it could happen, but she didn't want to acknowledge it, especially there, in their bed, curled up as lovers.

"I'm sorry," he said, and she felt him curl around her back and press a kiss against her shoulder. He paused for a moment. "I upset you."

"Just give me a moment," she sniffed, willing her eyes to dry. She didn't want to cry; not tonight.

He rolled her over, enveloping her in his warm arms, and she sobbed with the thought of what they could be, and what they could never be. For the foreseeable future they would be so delicate; so breakable. Anything could swoop down and part them. But did she really want a conventional relationship with him? Did she want a little white cottage and kids and a garden? She honestly didn't know. She didn't feel old enough for any of those things, but didn't they come with the territory of falling in love?

She just wanted him, like this, forever by her side.

Was it too much to ask? Was it selfish of her to ignore the dangers of war and place all of her thoughts with him?

He soothed her; hushed her gently, and she felt the sadness subside, giving way to a gentle, restful peace. Tonight was enough, for now. One day at a time; that's what he'd want her to think, isn't it?

Tonks noticed Remus had shifted the quilt from under them, and was glad of the weight and warm of it pressing against her cool skin. She closed her eyes and snuggled close; not wanting to see any more of the world. She didn't want another conversation that would inevitably lead to the subject of death, or talk of parting. She just wanted them together; to be close to him.

She loved him, more than he could possibly know.

She heard people ascending the stairs as they headed to bed, and closed her eyes. This New Year could be a new start; the year that she finally makes Remus see that they can survive anything.

She slept heavily at first, waking in the small hours of the morning and sleeping fitfully until it was time to wake properly. She snuggled up to Remus, and he stirred, moving occasionally to shift her weight in his arms or drape an arm around her waist. Rain began to fall outside, and Tonks lay wide awake, listening to the birds sing as the sun rose on a new day. She felt her eyes droop with the few hours of sleep she had caught, but her body ached too much for sleep, even with Remus holding her.

She finally relented, and had to wake him. The sun had only just risen.

"Remus," she whispered, her fingers at the softness of his upper arm. She shook him a little, and he jumped a little, his eyes bleary and unfocused. "Can you wake up for a minute?"

He looked confused. "Nymphadora," he realised. "What's wrong?"

"I love you," she told him.

His brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep. "And I love you," he assured her blearily. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"No," she told him firmly, and snuggled into the little pocket of warmth next to his chest. She heard him sigh in exasperation and rest his cheek lightly against the top of her head. "When we say that, it's a promise, alright? A promise that we'll do everything in our power to stay with each other. If...if we die, then we'll come back to haunt the one that's still alive, deal?"

He paused for a moment. "That sounds like a plan," he agreed softly. "You're so wonderful."

"Not wonderful enough to let you sleep," she reminded him. He chuckled. "Hold me?"

"I am holding you," he reminded her, with a kiss against the top of her head.

"Then hold me tighter," she whispered, and felt his arms tighten around her. She sighed into the skin of his chest, feeling peaceful, and her body aching less.

"I know I keep mentioning the worst case scenario," he said quietly. "And I know I can be morbid. I do try not to think these things, but age and experience had taught me not to assume anything will last forever. Especially not the good things."

"Sometimes I feel silly," she admitted. "I feel like a silly little girl for wanting to spend my life with you, when we haven't even been...together like this for very long. Do you think I'm silly? Because I just know it; I just know I love you, and I know nothing can possibly change that. Does that sound silly?"

"No," he assured her, brushing her hair back from her face. "It doesn't sound silly. It sounds wonderful. Almost too good to be true."

They were still for a moment, and Tonks could feel that he was drifting back to sleep, and grasped his hand. She didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts. His eyes fluttered open again; hazy and blue and gorgeous. She leaned up to kiss him, and he responded slowly and firmly, and it melted her from the inside out.

He rolled her gently onto her back, and made love to her in sleepy silence. She kept her legs wound tightly around his waist and buried her face in the side of his neck. The rush of her climax soothed the aching pressure in her muscles enough to let her drift off to sleep for a few more hours, with Remus pressed against her back.

Again, Tonks woke before him, but this time got up. She could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and found her stomach empty and wanting. She dressed and, with a last smile at his sleeping face, headed down towards the kitchen.

"Oh, Tonks, dear," Molly said, looking delighted in her fluffy dressing gown. "Happy New Year! Are you hungry?"

Tonks yawned hugely. "Starving," she smiled. "And Happy New Year to you too."

Tonks sat down, alone in the kitchen apart from the Weasley matriarch. She glanced down at the table and saw the stack of photos that Molly had taken the night before, developed and moving on their pages. She hummed happily and flipped through them, seeing pictures of Harry, Hermione and Rom smiling and holding their bottles up. Another of Dedalus in the grips of Molly, his smile looking a little forced. Another of Sirius and Dung, looking a little drunk and stumbling slightly...

And there it was; there they were, smiling up from the picture; Remus and Tonks. His arm was tightly around her shoulders, and their smiles were genuine and warm.

"Aren't they lovely?" Molly enthused, placing a plate of toast and scrambled eggs in front of Tonks. "That's a beautiful one of you and Remus. I've never used a camera before; Hestia brought it along."

"They're great," Tonks agreed.

"I hardly saw you all night, dear," Molly said, a twinkle in her eye. "It didn't escape our notice that you and Remus seemed to disappear before midnight. Did you find somewhere to sleep?"

Tonks flushed. "Molly, I-"

"Oh, Tonks, dear, I'm only teasing you," Molly assured her, placing a hand over Tonks'. Tonks laughed rather weakly. "I remember what it was to be young and that in love. I can't tell you how thrilled I am; don't you remember, all those months ago when I told you?"

"Yeah," Tonks said, with a wistful smile. "It seems like a lifetime ago."

Molly began to look through the pictures herself. Tonks kept the one of her and Remus in front of her, and glanced down at it now and then to smile at their tiny little duplicates.

She clung to the images in the picture; solid and happy and unchanging. Forever trapped in that perfect moment; that moment when she had come home, and he had been just about to take her upstairs and make love to her. Perfect, smiling, happy.

Forever, oblivious to the war.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Please leave a review.**


	17. Someone on the Horizon Waves Goodnight

**For the visual people out there, I have illustrated this fic, and if you're interested the links can be found on my profile page.**

**This chapter ended up being written pretty much in one sitting, and hopefully flows because of this. It felt suprisingly emotional to write; I didn't really know how it would turn out, but this is what I came up with.  
**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Someone on the Horizon Waves Goodbye, Goodnight

"Tonks! Get on Lestrange's tail!"

Tonks squinted against the onslaught of wind and urged her broom to fly faster through the icy night air. Beside her, she could see the glint of Kingsley's earring as he flew side by side with her. Her broom jerked and shuddered beneath her with exertion, and she thought longingly of Harry's firebolt. She swerved through a cloud and, trying to ignore the icy rush across her skin, kept her focus on the tiny black speck that was an escaped Bellatrix Lestrange.

Faster; just a little faster and she could catch up with her.

Come on, just a little more.

She heard her broom give a faint groan as it complied, speeding faster. The tiny figure in the distance grew a little, and she swore that she could make out the black hair flapping in the wind.

Such a terrible event seemed to have brought them together; Aurors and Dementors flew as though allied. Even a few Order members went unseen in the crowd of flyers trying to catch the escaped prisoners. The ministry would call it a coincidence; but even they could not deny that all of the escaped prisoners were Death Eaters.

What more would it take?

"Tonks! I'm going after Dolohov!" Kingsley shouted, even his powerful voice blown away by the whipping wind. "Keep on her six!"

She saw him swerve off to the left, but kept her eyes fixed firmly on the task in front of her. Bellatrix Lestrange twisted around, disappearing into the clouds and Tonks swore loudly, pulling up to try and keep a track of her. Through the clouds to her left, she saw a flash of green, and her heart jumped into her throat for a moment. Green, death...

Had it missed?

Other Aurors on faster broom sped past her in blurs of scarlet robes, and Tonks wondered for a moment if any of the Order members had passed her. Amongst the sea of Death Eaters perhaps they would go unnoticed by the Ministry workers. But then again, perhaps they would not...

But there was more at stake here than anyone's pride.

Bellatrix was the tiniest of dots again, and Tonks shook her sodden fringe from her eyes.

"Stupefy!" she heard somewhere beneath her, and saw the angry flash of red through the mist. She couldn't tell who it was, or if it had hit.

She was blind in a sea of cloud. She couldn't even see Lestrange anymore, and felt a wave of anger throw its way through her body. Her broom quivered beneath her, slowing down in exhaustion, and Tonks let a yelp of rage rip from her mouth, swallowed by the wind. Some bloody Auror.

Movement to her left and she saw Mad-Eye pull up beside her, meeting her eyes for a moment. She gave him a nod and he sped forwards, trailing another inconspicuous dot in the sky, his grizzled hair soaked through and plastered to his face. He sped off through the clouds, his all-seeing eye making tracking Death Eaters through the thick fog possible. If only she had a magical eye.

And then quite suddenly, the icy cold had nothing to do with the weather. It permeated from inside her, radiating down from her bones and working its way out to the surface.

"_We regret to inform you that your colleagues have unfortunately been killed in a terrible accident. The convicted murderer Sirius black, Kingsley Shacklebolt, ex-Auror Alastor Moody..."_

The short, clipped Ministry official's voice rang through her head, and Tonks tried to shake it off, telling her broom to speed up in the hopes that she could outrun the Dementor that was close by; the voice only grew louder, voicing her worst fears in words that sounded so real she wanted to cry.

"_...and of course, Remus Lupin, the werewolf. All have perished in an unfortunate accident. We're very sorry, and arrangements will be made to..."_

Something happy. Remus. Remus kissing her; making love to her.

Happy, happy, happy...

"_...there is little left of any of the bodies..."_

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Tonks shouted, aiming her wand somewhere behind her. A flash of strong white light flew through the clouds, and for a moment she was warm once more. She sped up, trying to keep control of her broom as she sped as quickly as she could from the trailing Dementor. She thought for a moment that they might be following her on purpose, and shuddered violently, her hand slipping a little on her broom...

...only to be swallowed by the sight of five Dementors surrounding her, their cloaks a wisp on the wind. Tonks gasped huge lungful of icy despair, and her broom stopped completely, giving way to the floating creatures as they converged of her, reaching out scaly hands towards her. How jubilant they must be, to be given permission to fly around away from Azkaban...

She cast another, slightly weaker patronus and saw one of the five Dementors fly away in repulsion.

It wasn't enough. Oh, Merlin.

Her head swam, and she felt herself tip off her broom, the wood clutched in her fingers as she dangled in the air. Oh god, she was going to die.

Her muscles wouldn't cooperate, and all she could feel was that icy, freakish, demented misery from which she was certain she would never rise again.

Her fingers were slipping off the broom...one by one...

She needed to move; to get back up. But no, there was nothing left in her body. No energy, just misery.

"Tonks!" she heard a distant, gruff voice cry.

More. There were more Dementors now; they crowded in, hungry for any sort of prey.

She didn't stand a chance.

White light flashed through her consciousness, and suddenly her head was clearer. But her body still refused to cooperate, and she almost cried out in relief when a dark figure swooped in and caught her in a tight grip away from the pool of icy air. Consciousness sporadic, Tonks felt a rapid decent and the harsh, gruff voice of Mad-Eye as he shouted things at her, clutching her tightly around her hips with one strong arm. She could feel that her hands were empty, and wondered where her broom had gotten to, but suddenly the ground was soft and springy around her feet, and she let her body give way and land on the mercifully cool grass.

"Tonks," she heard him mutter. "For god's sake, lass, what were you thinking? Every Dementor out there was converging on you."

He slapped her lightly on each cheek and she felt a little clearer. Mad-Eye had landed them in a grassy little courtyard. It was the early hours of the morning, so no one was around, and a dark hush had settled over them, with only the tinkling of a nearby water feature to break the peace.

"I..." Tonks blinked, feeling woozy. "I didn't invite them."

She saw Mad-Eye's face twitch with something that could have been the beginnings of a smile.

"Where's my broom?" she asked, suddenly panicked.

Mad-Eye sighed, and picked her up by the scruff of her robes. Tonks felt a little wobbly on her feet, but a lot better. Able to go back and carry on. "It didn't make it. I had to get you out of there quickly. Sorry."

Tonks winced as she thought of her trusty broom being whipped up and carried off by the wind. Still, the old thing hadn't done her much good when it had come to catching Bellatrix Lestrange. Her fists tightened.

"It was a bad idea letting them join the search," Moody growled. "They can't tell innocent from guilty. Still, anything to make the Ministry look like they're doing something. I followed Rookwood but the slimy bastard got away. Apparated."

Tonks sighed. "Lend me your broom?"

"Are you tipsy?" Mad-Eye asked, his voice angry. "You're not going back out there."

"I can find Bellatrix," she insisted. "Just let me borrow it, Mad-Eye. Please?"

"You'll do no such thing," he replied firmly. "You can't catch Lestrange; she'll have gotten too far. And I wouldn't trust you with my broom."

"I'll take good care of it," Tonks persisted.

"Moot point," Mad-Eye counteracted. "You're not going back up there."

She was spared the argument by a figure swooping down on a broom from the cloudy sky above. Tonks felt a smile approaching as she saw Remus land on the springy earth, his face pale and panicked. His hair was darker than usual from the damp and plastered across his forehead. He took one look at her, standing there safe and upright, and visibly relaxed.

"I thought..." Remus said. "I saw you dangling from your broom, but I was too far away. I thought..."

He broke off and shook his head, taking a deep, shaking breath.

"Crisis averted, Lupin," Mad-Eye said, "I caught her before she fell. Of course, a certain amount of vigilance would have meant she could've avoided the Dementors and we'd all still be up there."

"Not all of us can be vigilant out of the backs of our heads," Tonks snapped. "And I want to be back up there. I would be if you'd just lend me your-"

"There's not a chance, lass!" Mad-Eye said.

"Both of you," Remus said quietly. Tonks saw him swallow as he approached, his wide, shocked eyes on her. She could see him checking her for injuries. "This isn't the time. Let's simply be glad that..."

Remus broke off, closing his eyes and tugging on his hair. When he opened them, they were wild. "I thought you'd died," he hissed. "I saw you dangling from your broom and when I came through the cloud to try and get to you you'd gone. I thought you'd fallen."

His voice cracked a little at the last words, and Tonks felt her body numb in shock. Mad-Eye was silent, watching them. They stood apart for a moment, both rigid and unsure, and then he took a few strides and gathered her up in his arms, in an embrace so tight it lifted her feet off the ground.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shoulder.

Tonks could feel his arms shaking with the shock, and a rush of shame washed over her; how awful he must have felt. How would she have felt if, even for a brief moment, she believed he had plunged to his death?

"Constant vigilance," Mad-Eye reminded them loudly.

Remus sighed and set her down, a little reluctantly.

"Did anyone manage to catch someone?" Remus asked Mad-Eye.

"Not that I'm aware. They had a half an hour head start before the break out was reported," Mad-Eye replied grimly. "Death Eaters on the loose means things are going to get very ugly. These are committed, loyal, deranged followers, not the snivelling bastards we've had to deal with so far."

"Yes," Remus agreed grimly. "There's nothing we can do now, but hope that some have been recaptured."

Mad-Eye looked tired, weary, and just for a moment Tonks saw him looking his actual age. "I'm going back up there-" he saw the look on Tonks' face, "no arguments. I'll see you back at Headquarters. Both of you stand down for tonight. But be vigilant; you never know whose watching."

With that, Mad-Eye remounted his broom and took off at a fast pace, heading towards the cover of the clouds once more. They watched him disappear upwards, and Tonks thought longingly of her own broom; if only she had held on tighter, both she and Remus would be able to rejoin the chase. She knew he wouldn't leave her on her own after this...

Now alone together, she threw herself at him. He welcomed her tightly into his arms, walking her backwards until her back hit something hard. She had time to vaguely realise that she was against a lumpy feeling statue before his mouth covered hers, desperate and firm. Tonks could feel the tension in his body as he pressed her tighter, his hands gripping her head as his lips and tongue drew reassurance from hers.

"I thought," he panted, breaking away. "Oh, god, Tonks. I thought I was going to find you broken on the floor."

Tonks gasped and he kissed her again, his mouth rough and ruthless. His hands wandered, grasping her sides and running up her back firmly, as though he didn't quite believe she was there. She whimpered against his mouth, tangling her fingers through his soft hair and tugging gently.

"I'm fine," she said, hoping to soothe him.

"But you could've..." he took a deep breath. "I thought I'd jinxed it; all that talk of the chance of one of us dying...I thought I'd made it happen; just for a moment, I thought it was all my fault."

"Remus," she scolded. "You're being ridiculous. Look at me; I didn't fall, and I'm still alive."

His breath was still a little shaky, and he lowered his lips to her neck. "Yes," he said quietly.

Tonks give a giddy laugh at his biting kisses along her collarbone. "As much as I'd like to say you can shag me right now, I don't know if Mable across the road would appreciate the show," she reminded him, her eyes on the darkened little house across the road.

"Oh," he disagreed nonchalantly. "I think it's well past her bedtime. But you're right."

He pulled away and she blinked up at him, immediately missing his lips. "I am?"

Remus chuckled and kissed her forehead, a little more colour in his face. She grabbed the lapels of his still-damp robes and tugged him back against her. "I've changed my mind. Mable's sound asleep. Shag me."

He laughed out loud, and gave her a maddeningly chaste kiss. "That's not exercising constant vigilance," he reminded her playfully. "What if Alastor were to find out you were so..." he kissed her temple, "...very off guard?"

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "You're going to tell him you're shagging his favourite student? If that's not cause to be turned into a ferret I don't know what is."

"Hmm," he agreed. "Perhaps we'll keep that to ourselves then."

"Perhaps," she agreed vaguely, her eyelids fluttering closed at the feel of his lips against her ear. "Nothing would ruin the mood more than Mad-Eye swooping down. And I don't much fancy you as a ferret."

"I do recall you telling me you'd still love me if I had a tail and paws," he reminded her.

"Hmm, I don't think I could excuse the ears though. That's the deal-breaker."

"I see," he muttered, kissing her mouth softly. "Then what's say we get out of here, and avoid all ferrety outcomes?"

"In a minute," she said, and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in the soft part of his shoulder.

He paused for a moment before returning her tight embrace. He seemed to understand just how much she needed to stand there and hold him. Nothing beat this; his arms around her and the beat of his steady heart against her ear. Solid, real, there. His warmth blanketed her from the icy air, and she sighed a deep breath of relief.

So close...she had come so close to...

It was hard to think about.

In the distance, an owl hooted, and Tonks wondered when she had last slept. It seemed like weeks ago. She had gotten word of the mass escape just as she had been preparing to climb into bed, and it was closer to morning than night now, with the first light creeping up. What a way to start the New Year; with so many lethal servants of You-Know-Who on the loose and a Ministry not prepared to acknowledge the very thing that could kill them all. That _he_ was back, and they war had begun.

"Alright?" Remus breathed against the top of her head, and she nodded, needing just a little longer against him.

"Just a bit longer," she sighed.

He pressed a firm kiss to the crown of her head. "Whatever you need," he reassured her. "Heaven knows I need this too."

"What would you have done?" Tonks asked. "If I'd..."

"Don't," he rasped, and she felt his arms tighten.

"Sorry," she immediately said. "Sorry. Oh god, that's a horrible question, what's wrong with me?"

Tonks screwed up her eyes, feeling the pounding at the back of her head and just wanting sleep. Shower, bed, sleep. And Remus. That was what she needed. A reprieve from the relentless day.

Silence fell across the lovers, and they stood still, against one another. The trials of the day had left them mercilessly unscathed, but for the first time Tonks realised just what he feared; so easily could Mad-Eye not have gotten to her in time. So easily could she have plunged to the unforgiving floor below, and so easily could Remus have landed and found her smashed up body on the floor. Her lifeless eyes. And he would be alone.

They couldn't do this by themselves. Neither of them could.

"If..." he began quietly, answering her question, "if I'd found you dead tonight...I don't know what would have stopped me from..."

He didn't finish, and Tonks wasn't sure that she wanted to know the second half of the sentence, so she covered his lips with hers and tried to forget.

Perhaps they could both pass the day off as a bad dream.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was surprisingly empty. With a fresh deluge of snow many people had seemingly opted to stay at home. A few inebriated regulars were scattered around, but in general the pub was quiet. Tonks sighed and glanced around at Remus, who was letting her lead the way. To avoid being seen, they had come at night, and Tonks once again sported her inconspicuous and well disguising dark curtain of hair.

Tom looked up as they came in, his eyes settling on Remus. "He's upstairs," Tom called, rinsing out a cloudy looking glass. "Go straight up; he won't mind."

Remus nodded wordlessly and led her up the rickety spiral of stairs. Tonks felt a little anxious at heading into the unknown.

He rasped his knuckles against an old wooden door just set a little way back from the staircase, and a voice from behind called; "Come in."

Pushing the door open, they were faced with the open, friendly face of Jasper Bard. He was propped up against his pillows, fully dressed but under the covers. A book was open in his lap, and Tonks could see a little drawing of a wolf in the top corner. He smiled brightly enough to light the room, and Tonks couldn't help but return it.

"Well, if it isn't the prettiest pink haired...oh sorry, black haired witch in all of London," Jasper winked, and she heard Remus give a little cough. "Remus why didn't you bring her sooner; this was just the face I needed to see."

"I made the crude assumption that you enjoyed my company," Remus replied, chuckling.

"Oh, no, I'm just in it for the lovely girls," Jasper laughed, and gestured for Tonks to come closer. "Sit, my dear, sit. I don't bite this time of the month."

Tonks perched herself on the end of the bed, studying his face. "Wotcher. How are you, Jasper?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm back to working downstairs. The shop didn't go as planned, as I'm sure you recall. But still, I've got hope," he glanced down at the book open on his lap. "I'm carrying out a lot of research into the condition. There must be a cure."

Tonks heard Remus sigh a little, and understood his thinking; Jasper would be forever disappointed. His hope and optimism would mean that he would never give up, but neither would he succeed in these grand plans that his mind concocted.

"Have you heard about the breakout?" Tonks asked.

Jasper glanced at the Prophet sitting on his bedside table, his eyes worried. "Saw it yesterday. Were you there? I'll bet they called out every Auror they had."

"Yeah," Tonks confirmed. "I was there. They're saying they hope to have them back in confines in two weeks. Bloody fools, if you ask me. The sooner they understand that the Dementors are not loyal to them the better."

She heard Remus pacing a little behind her, and threw him a look. He stopped, and leant against a wall. Jasper fixed him with a withering look. "For heaven's sake, Remus, go and get yourself a drink. You're driving me mad lurking like that."

"I'm quite alright-"

"Go on," Jasper urged. "I want a chat with Tonks."

Tonks looked around and saw Remus looking extremely conflicted. Eventually, he relented and left, muttering that he would be back soon.

"You're together, aren't you?" Jasper said, his eyes sparkling. Tonks flushed. "I can tell. I haven't seen him looking so happy in all the time I've known him. As soon as you walked through that door, I knew."

"It's...complicated," Tonks said.

Jasper gave a brilliantly white smile, his bald head glinting in the evening sun. "How are you finding it?"

Tonks cleared her throat. "It?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Being with a werewolf," Jasper told her impatiently. "I mean, doesn't it scare you?"

"No," Tonks said. "Not at all. I mean, it's not easy but I just...I don't think about it."

Jasper laughed triumphantly. "I knew it! All this time Remus has said that there isn't a witch alive willing to take on a werewolf as a serious partner. I knew better, of course. I knew there were witches like you out there somewhere."

Tonks laughed, a little nervous at the sudden outburst. "I'm not quite sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Jasper said, his face soft. "You give me hope, that's all. And I'm glad he's got you."

For a moment, lit by the orange glow of the setting sun, Tonks could see just how sad Jasper was. The hollows of his eyes spoke volumes of the hope and failure that he must endure every day. His life, which Tonks would have guessed to be normal, civilised and well-educated, had one day been pulled like a rug from under his feet, and he was cursed with an affliction; a nightmare that he could never escape. Remus was different; it was all he had ever known. But Jasper knew what it was to live; truly live...free of the moon.

Unable to stop herself, Tonks wrapped her arms around the man, rubbing her hand over his back in soothing circles. He smelt of tobacco smoke and soap, and Tonks felt her eyes well a little.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Jasper seemed to understand; didn't ask her why she was apologising. It touched her that Remus could have bitten him; could have afflicted him, but still they stayed so close. A friendship so different, but just as strong as that which he had with Sirius.

"Take good care of him," Jasper whispered as she pulled away. "He suffers more than any of us see."

"I know, and I do try to help him. But he's so bloody proud," Tonks said quietly.

"He'll listen to you," Jasper said. "I know he will."

"Maybe," Tonks pondered. "I don't think he thinks he deserves a normal life."

"Perhaps he doesn't think he does, but if one finds him, he's hardly going to say no to it. And it seems that something not quite conventional..." Jasper's eyes twinkled. "...but a damn sight better than normality may just have wandered into his midst. If he ever lets you go, I will personally hunt him down."

Tonks grinned. "Nice to know I have a fan," she teased, poking him in the ribs. He smiled a brilliant smile at her, and they heard Remus return.

"What did you talk about?" he asked casually.

"Oh, our plans to elope," Jasper replied sweetly, winking, and Tonks heard Remus sigh in exasperation. She was unable to contain a little snort of laughter, which quickly descended into a fit of giggles. "You're not invited."

Remus perched himself next to her and waiting for them to finish laughing, his face patient and a little weary. This only made her laugh harder, the sound ringing out through the room, lightening the atmosphere.

Full moons would come and go, and Tonks knew that Jasper Bard would always laugh in the face of whatever life threw at him.

* * *

"I can't believe you never told me about this before," Tonks complained, as they stood outside the little cottage.

Another layer of snow covered the tiny house like icing, and Tonks sighed in delight at the sight of it; masses of white field stretched as far as the eye could see. Not another house for miles, the Lupin cottage sat. It looked a little sad and unloved; the windows were dark and hadn't been cleaned for a visible amount of time.

Remus threw a look across at her. "I wasn't sure what you'd think of it. It's never crossed my mind before now. Most of the time I'm not here; it's a little too expensive to maintain properly on my...limited income."

Tonks bit her lip, feeling a little unsure as they stepped towards the entrance, the fresh, untouched snow crunching underfoot. It was his childhood home; the only thing of monetary value that he owned. It seemed so intimate that he was showing it to her; after he had let slip a few days ago that he did in fact own a house, Tonks had persisted that she wanted to see it. Eventually, he had given in, and promised that the next chance they got he would show it to her.

Well, the weekend was surprisingly open, and she had gotten her way.

Remus looked a little embarrassed as he opened the front door, and Tonks felt her heart soften a little with love for him. "Don't expect too much," Remus warned her. "I haven't been here for a year."

Tonks smiled sweetly and entered. The front door gave way to a charming little sitting room. Its tartan furnishings and rustic decorations lent it a warm and welcoming feel, despite the slight dusty, neglected appearance of the place. Two small sofas were crowded around a large, open fireplace set back into a stone wall.

Yes. She could imagine Remus growing up here.

Suddenly, she realised that she had missed something. "Remus! Go back outside."

"Excuse me?" he asked, visibly confused.

"I just thought of the perfect little cliché," Tonks told him excitedly, urging him outside. Together they stood on the little step outside the front door. Remus frowned in question, and looked a little worried for her state of mind. "Carry me over the threshold."

Remus sighed, looking down at her with adorable frustration. "Are you serious?"

"Perfectly," she said, her eyes wide and innocent. "It's rude to keep a girl waiting."

He grinned down at her like she was the best thing in the world and hitched her up into his arms, bridal style. She squealed a little and he carried her back into the house, kicking the door closed with his foot. He looked around the room. "Any preference?" he asked.

"Hmm, that sofa looks pretty inviting," Tonks said. Chuckling, he crossed to the sofa and set her down, a little roughly on it. "Gilderoy Lockhart, eat your heart out, is it?"

"Once again, you insult me with the comparison," he said, sitting down next to her.

With a flick of his wand, the fireplace erupted into warm, soothing flames. Along the mantelpiece sat an array of photographs; a tiny black and white baby wrapped in a blanket, yawning up at the camera; a little boy, who looked a little sad, in the garden with his father, who also looked like he held a terrible burden; a family of three, mother, father and son all smiling over a Christmas roast...

It barely occurred to Tonks that he little boy was Remus, and the adults were his parents.

"How old were you?" Tonks asked. "When you were bitten?"

She knew that he was young, but he had never told her exactly when...

"Five," he said quietly. "I remember it surprisingly well. My father...well, of course you can imagine...he blamed himself. He had been the one to get on Greyback's bad side. He...well, he indulged me as a child. Tried to make amends by making the 30 days a month that I was human the best he could."

Tonks frowned. "You're always a human," she told him firmly.

"Except when I'm not," he counteracted quietly. Tonks didn't have a reply, so she stared at the photographs again.

Wordlessly, she snuggled into him. He sighed, and she felt his muscles loosen a little as she settled down into the sofa with her tucked against him. Tonks curled her legs up, toeing her shoes off first. They dropped to the wooden floor with loud bangs, and she winced at the sound that broke through the carefully constructed silence. Remus didn't seem to mind, and he pulled her legs up over her lap, tracing her knee through a split in her jeans.

"I don't ever want to hear you put yourself down, Remus," Tonks whispered into his neck.

She saw the long flicker of his sandy eyelashes as he looked down in shame. "It's a lifelong habit, not easily broken," he told her quietly, and found her hand. She laced her fingers through his, the rough, dry skin soothing and familiar.

"I brought you here because I want you in my life. Completely. This was the one corner you hadn't touched. It felt empty and cold," he told her, and kissed her cheekbone. "You've warmed me through and through."

Tonks kissed him, feeling the warm softness of his lips against hers. He had shaved, so his skin glided smoothly across hers with each brush of his chin and mouth. She sighed, sinking down into the cushions. The fire roared next to them, and Tonks felt a little too warm, but couldn't bring herself to care.

He nipped lightly against her bottom lip, and she sighed in appreciation.

Pulling back, he looked down at her; flushed and trying to catch her breath. He smiled, brushing her hair back from her forehead with a large, gentle hand.

Sitting up, he asked her. "What did Jasper tell you the other day?"

The question was completely unexpected, and Tonks frowned. "Just...why does it matter?"

"I just need to know," he said, looking exasperated.

"Just that...you never expected to find someone that would...love you for who you are."

He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose in a familiar gesture, his eyes screwed up.

"I don't see what's so embarrassing about that," Tonks said, frowning, and folding her arms across her chest. "And it's no longer an issue. Unless you have a line up of witches and you're just trying us all out, in which case I disapprove strongly."

Her attempt to lighten the mood proved futile. "Of course I don't," he sighed, exasperating. He met her eyes. "I don't want you to think that I'm only with you because you accept me for who I am. Merlin, I knew Jasper would say something and put a spanner in the works. I should never have taken you there."

"There are no spanners. And the works work just fine. I don't think that you're only with me because of that," Tonks said firmly. "The only person to put that thought in my head is you, just now."

He cupped her cheek in his hand. "I'm with you because you're wonderful," he told her sincerely.

"You're a right oversensitive git, sometimes," she teased, and shimmied her way into his lap. He grinned up at her, his hand settling in the curve of her waist. "But I wouldn't have you any other way."

Tonks bit her lip and asked a question that had been brewing for a long time. "Did you think this would happen? When we first met?"

Remus looked thoughtful. "Who was I to assume such a thing would happen? All I knew was that you were wonderful, and as time went on, I found myself needing to see you more and more. I knew what was happening, of course. I couldn't bring myself to pull back, though."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to," she whispered.

"Thank Merlin I threw caution to the wind when I did," he smiled up at her.

"Hmm, was that the first time in your life?" Tonks joked. Suddenly, she rose from his lap, straightening his robes. "Come on; I want a tour of this place. No expenses spared, or you'll have to carry me over all of the thresholds."

Remus looked a little shocked at her sudden change of mood, but rose from his seat and cleared his throat. "Well, this is the living area, which also serves as a kitchen and dining room," he pointed to the facilities; a tiny conjoined kitchen and round dining table.

"Hmm, it's lovely," Tonks agreed. "Where's the bedroom?"

"Straight to the point, Nymphadora," he admonished.

"Well, you know me," she grinned, and he took her hand and led her through a narrow hallway and up a winding, creaky set of stairs. The white painted stone walls radiated the cool air, and Tonks shivered a little, longing once again for the heat of the fire. They passed a closed door, and carried on to the end of the upstairs corridor. Remus let her into a tiny room with a single bed. It housed a wooden desk and chair. Tonks smiled down at the room in which he would have slept as a child.

But a part of her couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't sleeping in a bigger room.

Looking up at him, she saw him looking a little anxious. "Is this alright?" he asked. "It's only for the weekend. Of course if you want a bigger bed, there's always the double...but I haven't been in that room since they..."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tonks wound an arm around his waist. "This is perfect," she reassured him. "Cosy. I like small beds; it's an excuse to get closer."

He gave her a tight smile. "This is why I don't like to come here," he said quietly. "There are so many memories. Good memories. And when good memories are finished and done with, they can be just as tiring as bad ones."

"We don't have to stay here," Tonks told him.

"No, I want to," he said. "This house needs some life. You were right to ask to come. If anyone can wash away the stain of old memories in this house, you can. It's time."

"In that case," Tonks said, pulling him towards her. "I'd better get started."

Together, they fell into the tiny bed. Snow sat on the windowsill outside, blocking a little of the blazing midday winter sun. There was scarcely enough room to move on the narrow mattress, but they made do. He eased her under the quilt, and ducked under its covers, removing her trousers, socks and making quick work of her knickers. He kissed his way up her legs while she shed her jumper and bra.

Pulling a squeal from her that rang through the whole house, he tugged her down into the centre of the bed by her ankles. She laughed in earnest and he pressed his face against her stomach, grinning against her soft skin. With the quilt over them, the heat of their bodies erased the coolness of the little cottage, and soon Tonks was so warm that her body felt damp with the heat.

Remus freed himself of his own clothes, and for a moment just lay over her, listening to her heart thump against his ear. Tonks ran her hands through his hair, playing the soft strands through her fingers. Her legs folded around his waist, and she listened to his shaky breath for a while. Everything sent waves of warmth through her, from his head resting over her breast to the feel of his flat stomach between her legs.

"Talk to me," she urged, and he rose up to kiss her mouth.

She gripped his forearms, wishing that the bed was big enough to flip him over onto his back. She wanted to see his face...his chest...watch him lose control.

But this wasn't so bad, she mused, a moan rising from her throat as he pushed into her.

Together, they took the old stale smell from the cottage and made into something filled with pleasure and soft sighs. The empty corridors were filled with the sound of the creaking, little bed and the drag of her fingers down the wall as she tried to grab something for purchase. Love exploded with every thrust of his careful hips, and Tonks brought her legs up around him, desperate to keep him close.

She would do this for him. She would fill this house.

"Nymphadora," he whispered, his voice catching, his eyes were alight with pleasure. She threw her head back against the pillows, and he kissed the skin she offered.

"God," she breathed out, "Oh."

He cried out and redoubled the onslaught, dragging sounds from her lips that sounded alien and unlike her. All she could do was writhe and moan against the springy old mattress and try to keep up, her body awash with something that made her feel dizzy; like she was flying through the air. Her nails dig into the tender skin on his hips. She tried to open her legs wider, and ended up cursing the restriction of her own bones.

"I love you," she gasped, "so much."

He let his head drop forward, the softness of his fringe brushing against her face. She blew it out of the way and took a moment to giggle at the situation. The quilt let a little light through; enough to see him illuminated in a glow of orange and red.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, kissing her forehead. It seemed such a painfully intimate thing to do that Tonks almost cried with the sincerity of his voice.

Together, their final cries rang through the room, and Tonks shuddered into an almost too intense release. She could hear her shaky, gulping breaths, and he went very still above her, his muscles tight with pleasure.

Already the atmosphere was lighter, and when they came back to themselves it was to a new cottage; they had made it theirs, and while the shadow of Remus' parents still lingered behind the closed master bedroom door, the rest of it belonged to them.

Tonks sighed. "Does having mind-blowing sex in your childhood bed count as a cliché?" she asked breathlessly. "Because we've got that one covered."

Remus gave an answering hum, his voice temporarily out of service.

With a bit of twisting, they were soon snuggled up beneath the covers, her head in the crook of his shoulder. He draped an arm around her shoulders and sighed in comfort and relief. Outside, the first tiny flakes of a new snowfall was just starting to get underway, and Tonks closed her eyes, loving the idea of them getting snowed in.

"We need to come here more," she whispered. "This place...you shouldn't hide from it. It's your home. We all need a base to come back to once in a while. And I'll be right there with you. You don't have to face it alone. That's what you were afraid of, wasn't it? The idea of an empty house."

"Yes," he confided quietly. "It used to be so full of life. I...I loved my parents very much. I used to feel them here, but not anymore. Now there's just a great big hole where they used to be."

Tonks ached. Some part of him, however small and hidden, was that little boy who had loved his parents. She knew they must have been great people; to have made Remus the wonderful man he was today. Kindness and gentility like that came from the best, most loving of upbringings.

But they were gone. And he was left behind.

Time had to pass.

People had to leave.

* * *

**There we have it. Please leave a review, and I am so very grateful to those who are still following this story. Feedback makes my day.**

**Oh, and I have a nice, bright, shiny tumblr now :D  
**


	18. To Sir, With Love

**Hello, all! This chapter took a little longer than I anticipated, but better late than never! Your reviews are wonderful, and anyone who is still following this story; thank you very much! At the moment, the plan is to take this story up until a certain definative point and then continue in a sequal and ultimately a third installment to avoid this story getting too long and jumbled. However, this is just an idea in progress and it may yet just stay as this one story all the way through. I'm also dabbling with the idea of introducing a Remus P.O.V element, but need to fine tune that idea also. If I go with the idea of splitting the story, this one will reach thirty chapters, and be completed, to be continued in a new installment.  
**

**The chapter title was taken from the Lulu classic 'To Sir, With Love'. This chapter is pretty mild in terms of the mature rating. And if that displeases you, then don't fear; the next chapter will make up for it. I hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: To Sir, With Love

"I'm perfectly capable of walking in snow without falling, Remus Lupin."

Even as the words left her mouth, Tonks felt her foot slip a little on a patch of slick, deadly ice, and she reached out to grasp the crook of his elbow. Remus paused for a moment to help her regain her balance. She had thought that the heaviness of her work boots would stand well against the treacherous slick of ice, but now she had to admit she was regretting agreeing to go out at all.

Halfway between their destination - a small pub in a nearby village - and the cottage which they had come from, Tonks thought wistfully of apparition. But the full moon was dangerously close, and Remus was looking weary and tired, so she had cheerfully suggested that they walk to the village, casually leaving off her worries that he might splich himself. Remus had looked suspicious, but agreed nonetheless.

What he didn't know was that she had found a book on werewolf health in his bedroom desk, and had been sneaking reads while his attention was otherwise occupied. It was through the book that she had learnt that it can be risky to apparate too close or too soon after the full moon.

"Really, Nymphadora," Remus said hoarsely. "I don't understand why we can't app-"

"It's good to get out in the fresh air sometimes, Remus," Tonks enthused, wincing just a little at how falsely cheerful she sounded. To prove her point, she strolled briskly and enthusiastically across the ice, her legs stiff as they sensed the danger. She suspected that she looked a right idiot. "Plus...I feel a little under the weather. I splinched my big toe once when I had the flu. Not something I want to repeat. It ended up near the Isle of Wight, actually. Don't know what it was doing there..."

She knew that she was rambling pointlessly. Remus peered over at her, and she could see through the silvery moonlight that bounced off the snow that he was worried for her state of mind. "If you're feeling unwell, you could side-long-"

"No! Remus...I...I _love_ the snow," Tonks proved her point by slipping rather awkwardly, her front leg sliding forwards while her back stayed where it was, inadvertently sending her into a rather impressive splits. "And the ice. Lovely. Why would anyone want to miss out on this?"

Another slip; this time, he had to catch her under the arm to prevent an unfortunate fall onto the icy ground. Tonks sighed. The village was little more than a speck of light in the distance, and snowy fields surrounded them endlessly, a rocky – and now icy – path lined with frost bitten spruces. It all looked so lovely...until you fell on your arse.

"Does that have something to do with me?" Remus asked, his voice quiet and wary. "Because I'm perfectly capable of-"

"It's nothing to do with you. I've said...I love walking in the snow." A change of topic was desperately in order. "Ooh, look, Remus – a robin!"

"Lovely," he replied dryly, and she had an inkling that his hand in hers at this point was merely to keep her afoot, and nothing to do with affection.

Tonks felt her stomach sink; she didn't want to instate a bad atmosphere. She had only wanted to keep him safe and well.

"They hunt by moonlight you know," Tonks said matter-of-factly. She immediately winced; now she had brought up the moon.

"What?" Remus asked, his voice distant and a little too cold for her liking.

"Robins..." she answered, her voice a little hesitant. His hand had gone stiff in hers now, and she could feel the tightness of his knuckles through his thick black fingerless gloves and the soft pink wool of her own.

Once again, her stomach lurched as her foot slid on the icy slick below, and this time her balance let her down, and she landed on her backside, her hand still gripped in his. Tonks sighed, wincing at the bruising she could feel where her lower back had thudded onto the ice.

Remus sighed, but didn't make a move to help her up. He crouched down. Tonks could hear the bones in his knees crack a little, and winced. "Remus, don't. I'm fine. Just help me up and-"

"Why are you being like this?" he asked her softly, his eyes warm and gentle as they held hers, but fiercely challenging.

"I'm not being like _anything_," Tonks snapped. "It's cold down here, for Merlin's sake. Help me up, will you?"

She didn't mean to snap at him, but she resented being told off when all she as trying to do was help him. Remus took her hands firmly in his and hauled her up – a little roughly, she noticed – and she teetered for a moment on unsure legs, before striding forwards once more, this time without the reassuring presence of his hand in hers. Tonks winced at the feel of the melting ice seeping through the fabric of her robes, jeans, and finally coming to ungodly, freezing standstill in the lace of her knickers. He followed, a little behind her.

And she had felt so bloody _clever_ putting on the pink lacy underwear before they had left the cottage.

Even her knickers were against her.

Another slip; "Arghh!"

She caught a glimpse of Remus' determined face as he grabbed her bodily around the waist, and she was plunged suddenly into the pull of apparition. She tried to protest, but they were already on their way, and before she knew it, they were back in the freedom of the icy air, in front of a classic little country pub.

Tonks glanced, a little nervously up at him. Remus still had his arm tight around her waist. She held her breath tightly as she waited for him to say something. To her relief, he merely leaned down and pressed a firm, warm kiss to her forehead.

"You don't have to worry about me, see?" he whispered, his lips brushing her hairline. "I manage."

She hummed in appreciation. "I just...don't want you to take any chances."

"Let's go inside," he said. "I don't think my poor back can heave you up from the floor even once more."

She saw the corner of his mouth lift in a contained smirk, before he continued; "Really, Nymphadora, if you wanted to consider my state of health, you wouldn't keep falling down. I have a feeling that helping you up every single time you slipped was cumulatively more strenuous than if I decided to apparate to Scotland and back."

"I'm going to try and ignore that, Remus," Tonks told him, and he opened the door for her, smiling broadly. "It's not the brightest idea to imply things about a girl's weight, you know. Especially Aurors. Unless you have a death wish. I could morph a tiny figure if it's really so bloody _arduous_ to get me up off the floor?"

She squealed in delight when he came up behind her, pulling her back against his body, and growling low against her ear; 'Don't you dare."

So in raptures with each other, they didn't notice the fact that all eyes in the tiny pub had turned to the frolicking newcomers. Inside, the pub was a little like the Three Broomsticks; warm and friendly, even if the decor did share more similarities with the Hog's Head. The small woman behind the bar was wiping out a glass with a rag.

A little red in the face, they made their way to the polished counter.

"What can I get you?" the middle aged woman asked, her voice distinctive of many years of smoking, glancing up at the two of them from a cloud of deep plum hair.

She seemed to do a double take, her eyes widening as she took in Remus. Tonks felt a lump in her throat; had it begun? Was she about to call him out over what the Prophet had written about him? Tonks felt a wave of protectiveness wash through her, and gripped his hand tightly.

"Remus Lupin, where the bloody hell have you been?" she whispered, and a fat tear escaped from her eyes.

Leaning over the bar, the woman pulled him into a rather awkward hug. "I'm sorry," Remus said quietly, patting her back a little awkwardly.

"We miss you round here," she sniffed. "Heck, I barely even recognised you when you came in!"

Remus laughed a little dryly. "Yes, I would imagine I'm a great deal greyer than the last time."

"Well, that and you don't normally come in wrapped up in young witches," the woman noted. She turned her eyes to Tonks releasing Remus and giving her a swift wink. "Hello, sweetheart, I'm Marcie."

"Tonks," she smiled in reply.

"Nymphadora Tonks," Remus smiled.

"Tonks," she corrected sternly, and Remus gave her another mischievous grin.

"What can I get you both; on the house of course?" Marcie asked, her eyes bright with tears of happiness.

"Two hot firewhiskies, please," Tonks asked, and felt Remus prod her side in question; neither of them were great lovers of strong alcohol.

Tonks turned to wink at him, "It's bloody freezing; we need something to warm up. I swear I lost my bum out there somewhere."

"No, it's still there," he corrected her lightly.

Marcie placed the glasses of smoking liquid before them, and Tonks removed her gloves gratefully, looking wistfully at the fireplace and wishing that a table was free near its soothing warmth. Remus picked up his own glass and took a sip, before removing his own overcoat, gloves and scarf, draping them over his arm.

"Shall we?" he asked hoarsely, and held out his arm for her. She grinned, surprised by the chivalry, and took his elbow.

They navigated around the tables, into a small booth by the steamed up window. Tonks could see the blinding white of the snow outside, and feel a little of the cold coming through the thin glass pane, but couldn't bring herself to care, because Remus was sliding in next to her, sitting a little too close to be casual.

"Remind me never to let you order our drinks again," Remus said, wincing as he took another sip of the drink.

"Hmm, a lightweight, are you?" Tonks asked, taking a hefty sip of her own drink to prove a point. If she was truthful, she was not exactly adept at holding her alcohol, having never liked being drunk - or rather being out of control - and she felt a rush of warmth wash through her veins at the feel of it settling in her stomach. She thought wistfully of the pub menu; of bangers and mash and steak pie and chicken with gravy. Something to soak up the booze...

"I'm afraid I am," Remus said. "But Aurors can hold their drink, can they?"

"You bet," Tonks nodded. Her eyes glinted. "Why, do you feel like taking me on?"

"No," Remus said. "Someone has to apparate us back tonight, or at least pull you up off your bottom when you land on the ice."

"It's dangerous to drink and apparate," Tonks reminded him.

"Exactly; I fear that we're in for a _very_ long walk back," Remus replied teasingly, and Tonks shot him a withering stare.

"I happened to notice that _you_ weren't exactly a graceful swan on the ice," Tonks retorted. "More of a duck, actually. A duck with a broken leg, and a bad sense of balance."

Remus laughed warmly, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple. "Then we can both be ducks, hmm?"

"No idea what you're talking about, Remus, I'm a swan," Tonks scoffed.

"Of course; what else could fall over so elegantly?"

"Exactly," she agreed briskly, taking another sip of her drink.

Remus laughed and sipped his own, and Tonks noticed the slight flush of his cheeks and the brightness of his eyes. Her hand itched to touch his soft face, and ruffle through his thick, greying hair. He was truly adorable. In fact, she had been openly unable to stop touching him last night; insisting he make love to her time after time until eventually he had fallen asleep with his head pillowed against her breasts.

If she hadn't been basking in the pride of wearing him out so thoroughly, she might have felt bad for using up his precious energy so close to the full moon. But still, he hadn't protested.

To Tonks' delight, they ordered food, happily talking, eating and drinking as the pub filled up further, until Tonks was certain that the entire village had decided to pile in. They got a lot of double-takes, and Tonks wasn't sure whether it was to do with the Prophet's slander, or the fact that the man they had known through childhood had suddenly reappeared...with a pink haired girl, no less.

Mopping gravy up with a crusty roll, Tonks pondered Remus. He ate quietly, not talking with his mouth full, and a part of her just wished that he would bugger the manners and be rude. Still, that would be so unlike Remus that the shock of it might have sent her reeling.

At nine o'clock, a local band came to play. They were middle-aged, fat and balding, and it amused Tonks greatly when they announced their name was 'The Dumbledores'. A sudden hush came about the room, and for a moment people simply stared. But then there was clapping; appreciation for the Headmaster, and a few more people joined in, and a few more. A sparse amount of cheers called out, but the majority of people in the room simply stayed quiet, or exchanged a few poignant glances.

As the first few notes were struck up by a man with a long, black straggly beard on an accordion, who began to wistfully croon, Tonks couldn't stop the waves of giggles that erupted.

"Oh Merlin, Dumbledore would_ love_ them," Tonks delighted, resting her head contentedly of Remus warm shoulder, feeling his own quakes of mirth as he tried – more effectually than her – to keep quiet and respectful.

"_I've been pacing my office..." _the lead singer crooned, in tandem with some rather rogue background singers. "_...for too long now..."_

"_And I think of home, all those years ago...but it feels so wrong..."_

Tonks doubled over in silent mirth, her head banging off the table rather loudly and earning her a few looks and hushes. She clamped a hand over her mouth and leant into Remus, whose stomach was tense and quivering with suppressed laughter.

"_Because my heart will always be at Hogwarts, that bright, sunny place..."_

Suddenly sobering a little, Tonks pressed her lips to Remus' shoulder and snuggled into him. He grinned down at her, his eyes shining through the dark circles that the impending moon had cast upon him. All of a sudden, her worries from earlier that day seemed irrelevant and the book was nonsense, because there he was, against all of the odds, thirty years after being bitten and still fighting...still defying the odds and destroying the statistics.

Her Remus.

"_Let me stay at Hogwarts, 'cause I never really left..."_

The song continued for a while, and Tonks felt herself drifting off into a gentle slumber against him. He woke her with a kiss to her forehead, and smiled sweetly down at her. He needn't have bothered, however, because The Dumbledores' next song was considerably more upbeat, and jolted her from her pleasant lull. The lead singer announced that it was called 'The Man Himself'.

With baited breath, they waited for the lyrics.

"_My beard is long (long)... this is my song (song)..."_

The giggles made a return, and this time Remus joined in freely, as the lyrics of the bloody awful song washed over them, each more hilarious than the last. The lead singer was getting into it; his long black beard and hair damp with sweat as he moved around the stage strongly, addressing the crowds of elderly ladies and rural looking men. For their part, most of them watched blankly.

A few avid looking groupies rocked out a little too enthusiastically next to the small makeshift stage, and did nothing to quell their mirth.

"Isn't this music similar to what you listen to normally?" Remus asked, his eyes wide and innocent. Tonks pinched his arm violently.

"Cheeky," she admonished, raising her voice above the racket.

"How would you like to go back?" he asked in her ear, his breath skimming her skin and making her wish they were there already.

"Best idea you've had all night," she approved, and together they slid out the booth.

Many shot them disapproving stares, especially when Tonks clashed loudly with a table en route to the door, which clattered over with a loud bang. She ignored them, and Remus took her hand, grinning down at her adorably as they left. They shot a wave at Marcie, who was busy staring at the Dumbledores, seemingly shocked and appalled by the band that she had allowed to play in her pub.

Outside, it was colder, and tiny flakes of snow were once again beginning to fall.

"Come here," Remus offered, and wrapped an arm around her. She felt a little safer on the ice, but her head was spinning a little with the drink, and as they began to walk instead of apparate, Tonks decided that Remus must have felt in a similar state.

Still, she thought of the long walk back with less distain, and snuggled into his warm side, walking in tandem with him.

"It was nice to see you feel comfortable in public again," Tonks told him softly.

"It's a place I know well; enough people know what I am to accept it, or reject it. I know who to avoid and who are my friends. It's...its simpler here than in London. It's familiar territory. Marcie was a friend of my mother's. A great deal younger than her, of course, but still, they were very fond of each other."

"She seems wonderful," Tonks smiled. "Like your childhood Molly."

"Yes," he laughed, a little hoarse in the icy air. "The similarities hadn't escaped me."

Her foot slipped beneath her, but she clung onto him and managed to avoid going down completely. Honestly, she had thought that her work boots would be the cure-all to icy conditions. She felt a fool. She could see the tiny cottage, dark and waiting for them on top of the distant hill.

It felt too far to walk without a distraction.

Besides, they had already established that they were both far for mature adults, despite their ages.

With this in mind, Tonks leant down and scooped up a handful of ice, compacting it in her palms. He realised at the last moment what he was doing, and held up his hands in an act of mercy. She ignored it, and the snowball landed on the side of his face, drenching his hair.

He stared at her for a moment. "You have no idea what you've just got yourself into, do you, Nymphadora?"

"My official title in combat is Tonks. Auror Tonks if you want to be pedantic, which you always do."

"Well, then Auror Tonks, this is war."

Tonks squealed and headed for the softer snow on the field, feeling him chasing after her. The first snowball hit her squarely on the backside, and she shot him a glare over her shoulder, scooping up her own ammo, feeling a little tipsy with mirth and firewhisky. She struggled to run in the snow as it gave beneath her feet, and launched a snowball in his direction, which he quickly averted with a flick of his wand.

"No wands, Lupin, you cheating git," she called.

He shrugged, stowing it back in his robes and continuing his onslaught. She attacked, getting two snowballs right in the middle of his chest and one on his back as he turned around for shelter. When he turned back armed, she ran further into the field, her laughter caught by the wind and fine snow.

Her heart beat a song while he chased her, and she let herself enjoy the simple pleasure of the soft snow giving way beneath her feet and the sound of his breathless laughter behind her. All too soon, his longer strides and superior grace on the icy ground allowed him to catch up with her, his arms making skilful lunges. She dodged him quickly, running this way and that.

"No!" she protested, allowing herself to be captured.

In a pile of laughter and love, they landed on the bed of snow. Tonks threw her head back in laughter, pillowing her head on Remus' chest as their gripping waves of mirth slowed into soft, tinkling giggles.

"Come on," he said eventually, planting a warm kiss on her forehead. "We'll catch our deaths."

Tonks pouted, but accepted his help with good grace. He opened his arms and she went willingly...

...only to feel the cold slide of piece of ice down her bare back where he had dumped a small snowball down the neck of her robes.

She let out a breathless squeak, her voice taken away by the feel of the ice on her skin. Remus swallowed her breath with his mouth firmly pressed against hers. She squirmed against his laughing body as the icy, melted water settled at the base of her back. Before she could retaliate, or indeed say anything, she felt the tug and squeeze of apparition.

The snow was little more than a cool patch now, and as the cottage came into view, she was momentarily distracted by something amiss against the deep blue hue of the sky.

"What-" she was cut short by the sight of Remus' pale face. Another glance at the cottage told her exactly what his fears were made of.

More than thirty owls sat, some fluttering their wings impatiently, on the ridge of the roof. All were carrying tiny letters on their fragile legs.

It could mean only one thing; a response to the Prophet's article.

"You don't have to open them," Tonks said immediately, her voice wavering a little. "We can just throw them in the fire."

She saw his Adam's apple bob once as he swallowed deep; his courage and dignity, and his pride. "I'm not running away from this, Tonks."

"I know, but the people that believe the Prophet are ignorant bastards, Remus. I just...I don't want you to be influenced by anything that they say or think. Or write. Look, Remus we were having such a nice time!"

To prove her point, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, bringing him down for the strongest kiss she could muster. It took a little effort, but he twisted free of her, his eyes occupied by the line of post-owls waiting patiently on the roof. It was like the owls were staring at them; as though they too held the opinion of the Prophet's readers. Judgement, hate...prejudices.

"Let's go back to London?" Tonks pleaded urgently. Anything; she needed to get him out of there before he read the letters. "The owls will leave after a while."

"They won't leave until they've delivered their letters to me," Remus said, and Tonks could have sworn she saw the gentle sheen of tears well in his eyes, and then retreat.

Tonks could see, just from looking at his face, that she could do nothing. His resolve was strong, and he was determined to face whatever the owls held in store for him. As they walked forwards over the icy path, Tonks honestly considered slipping in a gallant attempt to break something, simply to distract him. Anything; she would do anything. It would be for a good cause, she reasoned.

But he was at the door, staring up at the first owl. Well trained, they waited as one by one Remus removed their burdens. Some letters were fat and large, others thin. As he freed them, each owl fluttered its wings and took off into the night sky, leaving nothing but a memory and the letter they had left behind. The row seemed to be endless, and Tonks held out her gloved hands when the letters swamped Remus' arms. He gratefully gave her half, and finally, the last letter was removed, and the brown owl gave a grateful hoot before it left, leaving nothing but nervous silence, Remus and Tonks.

He sighed and opened the front door – a little awkwardly with his hands full of paper – holding it open for her to enter. She did, and quickly lit a fire, not only for warmth, but in the event that she might need to commence an emergency letter-intervention.

He was _not_ allowed to mope.

Remus cleared his throat, and she turned to him. His face was illuminated in the firelight.

His fingers seemed to move at half the normal speed as he dug them under the seal and ripped open the letter, freeing whatever hate someone had had the audacity to send him. If they had left a return address, Tonks made a silent promise to hunt them down and –

"Oh..." he said blankly, and blinked a few times at the paper, as though he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Tonks chewed her lip nervously, and saw his eyes reading and re-reading the letter. She couldn't quite read his expression.

After an agonizing wait, he finally held out the letter for her to read, his hand steady.

As the words washed over her, she felt a cry of relief erupt from her chest.

_Dear Professor Lupin,_

_You may not remember me, but you taught me in my seventh year. The girl that slandered you in the Prophet – Ivy Maybourne – is the worst kind of girl that I ever met, and I am convinced the Prophet is no better. I was appalled when I read the article they wrote about you. _

_I want you to know that because of your teaching, I passed my N.E.W.T in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and am now training to become an Auror. This would never have been possible without you. _

_You were, and remain to this day, the best Defence teacher Hogwarts has ever had._

_Thank you, and best wishes, Professor,_

_Florence McDonald._

"Remus," Tonks enthused, "this is wonderful!"

Remus smiled back, and it was genuine and peaceful. He wordlessly asked for the letter back, and read over it once more, his smile wistful and a little disbelieving.

Together, they opened the stack of post, to find letter after letter praising Remus, condemning the Prophet and offering thanks for his brilliant teaching. Granted, there were a few harsh letters of hate and vile words, but Remus didn't seem at all phased by them; his attention was with his ex-pupils, and the kind out-reaching hands that had been so mercifully extended to him.

Tonks couldn't feel more relieved. A huge weight, the size of the moon, had suddenly been lifted.

Finally, as the last letter was opened; the parents of a young girl who had recently been bitten, praising Remus and asking how he coped, Remus set them all down on a nearby table. He silently held out his arms, asking for her, _needing_ her, and she couldn't refuse if she had wanted to.

"See, you're wonderful," Tonks said, her voice muffled into his overcoat. "They can see that you're wonderful, just like I can. Oh, Remus."

"I love you," he said quietly, and Tonks felt herself bubble with happiness, and a little shock; it wasn't something he said often, and certainly not without prompt, but something in his gentle voice surged through her and warmed her to her fingertips. "I...I can't believe it."

Wordlessly, she sought his mouth with hers. His lips were instantly yielding and just a little too gentle. She tangled her hands in his soft hair and he made a low noise in response, which travelled from her heart way down into the heart of her very being. She could feel everywhere he touched; every brush of his lovely fingers and palms against her lower back – which was still a little damp from their snowball fight. She thought fleetingly that she would have to get him back somehow for fooling her so effectively, but the thought was lost as his tongue brushed carefully across hers.

She pushed until he hit the sofa, tumbling back onto the worn cottage upholstery which let out a little _puff_ of collected dust. It tickled her nose, and she let out a tiny sneeze before he tugged her forwards and onto his lap.

"I knew we should've opened those letters," Remus told her cheekily, his lips grazing her neck. "I was right."

"Hmm, but you only wanted to open them so you could mope around like oversensitive git you are," she retorted cheerfully, briefly wondering if she had gone too far.

To her relief, he let out a husky jolt of laughter, and shifted her playfully further into his lap. "Now you're being ridiculous. Why on earth would I want to mope? And you've never had any qualms about me being _older_."

"Never..." she gasped, and he sucked happily on her collarbone, "never was an issue, was it?"

To her intense disapproval, his head lifted, his eyebrows drawn together in his classic display of worry. "It doesn't bother you?" he asked. "That I'm older?"

"I don't care about that," she dismissed simply; impatiently.

"What if I do?"

"Your hands don't seem too bothered," she reminded him simply.

"Hmm, I suppose they're not," he agreed, his face thoughtful. "It's only polite to make up for that snowball down your robes earlier. I would have thought an Auror would be more on-guard."

"That was low, Remus," Tonks scolded. "I've heard your stories, but I didn't think a Marauder would play so _dirty_."

"On the contrary," he breathed in her ear, "we were never ones for rules."

Tonks grinned widely at him, and for a moment he stared up at her, dazzled. She ducked her head and littered sweet little kisses all over his face, speaking in between each peck. "And that...Remus...is why _you_...should stop all this nonsensical worrying over the age gap. If you're such a rebel, then why worry at all. Break all the rules; screw what other people think."

Remus gave an enigmatic hum. "Although, I must admit, I was always a little more bound by the morals of society than my frien-mmpphh."

She cut him off with a solid, powerful kiss, stealing whatever was left of his doubts.

"You talk too much, Remus Lupin," Tonks breathed, feeling the hot rush of his breath against her mouth. "And think too much, and worry too much. And did I mention talk too much?"

"You talk a lot more than I do," he reminded her gently, brushing his lips against hers.

"I talk about nice things, though," she pointed out in response. "You do tend to veer towards doom and gloom."

"Oh really?" he said, and Tonks suspected – with a little rush of pride – that he simply didn't have a witty retort at all. "Like what?"

"Like how much I want to shag you?" Tonks asked hopefully.

"I've never heard you talk about that," Remus snorted, tickling her sides.

"You're generally not paying too much attention when the occasion calls for _those _conversations," she teased, her tongue peeking out from between her teeth. She watched as his eyes followed its journey back into her mouth, looking as though he'd like nothing better than to follow it inside.

"Are you _implying_ that I can't retain the presence of mind to listen to my own girlfriend whilst...?"

"Hmm, whilst what?" Tonks asked, her eyes wide and innocent. "And I'm your girlfriend, now, am I?"

Remus seemed to sober a little. "I feel a little too old to be saying that," he admitted, sheepishly. "What would you like me to call you?"

"Girlfriend is great," Tonks reassured, her insides buzzing. "In fact, I insist upon it."

Remus sighed, and still looked a little uncomfortable. "Perhaps I'll ignore any event which calls for me to bring light to just how much older I am than you but calling you my girlfriend?" he muttered, and Tonks rolled her eyes. There was a time when she would have taken a comment like that to heart, but now his little self-depreciating moments bounced off her and she just dismissed them of something he would never stop doing. She knew it wasn't about shame; he had proven that he was proud to have her as his...whatever she was...but she also knew he was not so proud of himself.

"How about," Remus suggested, his voice low, "I call you Nymphadora, and you call me Remus."

"You're a genius," she gasped in feigned appreciation. "And how about you call me Tonks, like the rest of the world?"

"Hmm, the rest of the world doesn't have you in their arms," he pointed out, kissing her ear firmly.

"Not that you know of, anyway," Tonks grinned cheekily.

Remus shot her a withering look, and pulled her down for another kiss. His slight growth of beard brushed lightly against her chin, and she tugged him closer, her need for him as insatiable as ever. She didn't know what it was; whether it was the warm touch of his mouth – but no, because she had wanted him long before he had first kissed her...or the strength of his large, warm hands? Perhaps...

Whatever it was, it filled her up, and the question that had been brewing for the day and a half they had spent at the cottage bubbled up, urgent to break free...

"This full moon," she blurted, and took a deep breath, "I want to stay with you."

His response was instant and predictable, but she was not deterred. "No," he said simply.

"You can't just dismiss me like that," Tonks told him sternly.

"This isn't something which concerns you; this is me, and it's very personal, so I'm within my right to simply say no," he told her seriously.

"But you'll have the Wolfsbane; you'll still be you," Tonks told him. "You've been taking it everyday...it can't be any safer."

"The answer is still no," Remus said, and his voice told her that he wasn't going to move.

"Then...at least let me see you the morning after," Tonks asked. She saw his eyes flicker a little, and knew she had found a crack in his resolve. "That morning I came to see you; you weren't too bad. You were walking and talking and..."

"That," he told her firmly. "Was a fluke. I hadn't broken through my restraints that night because the wound in my back had weakened me, so I wasn't able to hurt myself. Most nights the wolf has more energy than that, and the restraints don't mean _anything_, Tonks."

"All the more reason to let me come and see you," Tonks said, "I can bring you some breakfast and..."

Please, Nymphadora," he pleaded, and looked desperate. "I can't let you."

"You have to let me in at some point!" she said. "The longer you shut me out the bigger this is going to grow between us, until neither of us will be able to mention it at all. I want us to be honest with each other; I don't want to ignore the elephant in the room, Remus."

He sighed, and thought for a moment. When he spoke, he couldn't quite meet her eye. "There's a potion that Jasper makes that can help sometimes the morning after," he said finally, his voice quiet. "If you want, you can bring it up to me..."

"Of course I will-!"

"But," he cut her off firmly, "at midday. Don't come in the morning like last time, please?"

"Okay," she nodded, her heart soaring at the trust he had finally placed in her. At midday I'll come up. Oh, Remus."

She crushed him against her in a huge, gripping hug, burying her face in his shoulder. He sighed against her, and she felt his body relax a little; he had finally given in. With him safely tucked into her arms like that; and feeling his own around her back, rubbing gentle circles against her spine, it was hard to believe that they had ever not known each other.

Suddenly very aware that they were both wearing their warm overcoats and shoes, she kicked her heavy shoes off, letting them fall to the floor with a clunk. Her socks were a little damp, so she climbed off his warm lap to hang them on the fireplace mantle, hearing Remus kicking his own shoes off behind her.

When she returned to him, they had both forgotten the letters on the table beside them, and neither cared that he was a werewolf, or older than her as her lips met his and her knees planted either side of his hips.

The elephant in the room – or rather the wolf in the room – that they hadn't been allowed to discuss, was suddenly a little smaller, and Tonks knew that in time he would come to trust her more and more, and she would find herself privy to all of those parts of his life that he kept so private.

They spent their last night at the cottage curled up in front of the fire, thinking of a day when things could be simple for them.

A day that they both knew may never come.

They went to bed a few hours later, and Tonks drifted off easily in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, curled up against his body. It was the lack of him that eventually woke her, and she opened her eyes to a bed without Remus, and the sheets cold where he had been. The clock told her it was well past midnight.

She grabbed a large jumper and slid it on to protect herself from the chill. The wood beneath her feet felt unwelcoming as she went in search for him, drawn in by the warm glow from the lounge where he had obviously lit a fire.

When she found Remus, he was hunched over the writing desk, his hair looking adorably agitated, as he poured over the letters he had received, a quill in one hand.

"What are you up to this time of night?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder to peer. Before him sat a blank sheet of parchment, and several balls of screwed up, discarded drafts which he obviously hadn't deemed to be good enough to send.

"I'm trying to answer the people that wrote me," he muttered, and looked back at her over his shoulder. "I don't know how to do this, though. I have no idea what to say at all. This girl had been bitten three months ago; she's only nine years old, and her parents want me to give them advice?"

"Just...write from the heart, Remus," Tonks encouraged, rubbing the tension from his tight shoulders. "You're not going to get anything done while you're tired, though. And it's our last night here. Come back to bed?"

"I will in a minute," he assured her. "I just need to write one. You go back up; I'll be there soon."

She sighed and pressed a kiss against the top of his soft hair, leaving him to it.

This was something he needed to do himself; they had written to him, and only he could write back.

As she paused at the bottom of the stairs to look back at him, illuminated in the kind glow of the fire, she knew not to expect him back in bed until the morning.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**I hope that you enjoyed this chapter; please leave a review. Thanks for reading, and if anyone has tumblr, you can find a link to mine on my profile page - I'd love to hear from you!**

**'till next time!  
**


	19. Unfolding, I am

**I am ashamed, once again, of the long wait. These chapters need a fairly good run of uninterrupted time to be completed, and I have a short break, so you may well find another chapter cropping up sooner than expected this week (although I make no promises!) Once again, thank you so much for the feedback and support. If you are following the story, thank you very much; I am always touched when someone shows that they are enjoying it, and without the feedback I have received, I would have never kept the momentum for such a long story going. I keep writing for you guys!**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Unfolding, I Am

When Tonks woke – a little sooner than she really agreed with – she could feel the early morning pressing at her eyelids; the air was crisp and clean, and there was the fresh smell that lingered in the air at dawn. She groaned, stretching out her slightly cramped leg, and felt Remus hand gently moving against her back, drawing her from her slumber, gently. Cracking open an eye to stare blearily at him, she found herself too tired to tell him off for waking her so early. She had no idea what time he had finally gotten to bed, but he looked reasonably well rested, if a little dark under the eyes, but Tonks suspected that had more to do with the approaching moon than his sleep. Outside the small window, it hovered somewhere between light and dark.

"Wotcher," she croaked, and saw him crack a small, loving smile. "Is it morning?"

"No," he whispered, so low that she could barely hear him. "I just missed you."

"Oh, really? And that warrants waking me up at some ungodly hour, does it?"

Remus trailed his lips over her cheekbone, stopping here and there to press the lightest of kisses against her skin. She sighed. "Yes, it does," he replied with a smile. "I'm well within my rights to miss you whenever I please, Nymphadora. And you're not usually one to protest when I wake you accordingly to do _this_."

He caught her bottom lip between his, his hands cradling her face so gently that she sighed into his mouth.

Tonks snorted in amusement, closing her eyes. Quickly, sleep tugged at her mind, and she began to drift. Until she felt his hand resting gently on her hip. "Remus, it's not a good idea to wake a sleeping Auror."

"I'll take my chances," he whispered, and she felt his lips...just _there_, on her neck. Suddenly being awake was looking a more attractive prospect.

"How do you get away with being such a smooth talker, Remus?"

"It's a gift," he said.

"Hmm, nothing could've prepared me for this," she mused. "Even after all of those cool as cucumber reports, I wouldn't have had you down as a smooth talker in bed."

Remus pulled away to frown down at her, looking a little hurt, and Tonks instantly regretted speaking, and the loss of his lips. She flashed a grin up towards him, hoping to counteract the damage she had done, or at least put an end to their little conversation so she could go back to sleep...

"And what _exactly _did you think I'd be like in bed, Nymphadora?"

"I...what?" Tonks felt her face flush brightly, and her words clambered over each other in a rush to form an excuse.

Quite suddenly, he grinned brilliantly, and Tonks bore the onslaught of a shower of kisses against her face and neck. She laughed out incredulously, and squirmed. He muttered low into her ear: "You thought I'd be a prude, did you?"

"No," she protested quickly, and couldn't quite believe that she was essentially admitting to thinking about him in bed before they had even got together. "I just thought, maybe you'd be a little shy..."

"So...prudish, essentially?" he laughed.

"Well, you proved me wrong, whatever I thought."

"Is that so?" he asked, sounding uninterested.

"Hmm," she confirmed, and kissed him deeply.

In her warm pocket between the sheets, she was settled, naked. Reluctantly to move and make herself vulnerable to the cold, Tonks tugged him further towards her – not that he needed much tugging in the tiny bed – and found that he was still dressed. Quickly, she helped divest him of his clothes, until he was as naked as she. A deep ache settled at the pit of her stomach; a hunger for food and him, conflicting and battling in her stomach. Desire won, and she found his lips with hers. Their kiss was slow and unhurried, both aware that they would have to leave the little cottage later that day and return to the real world.

But for now, the time was theirs to use.

Remus' mouth once again found her neck, and she let a low breath leave her lung, the only sound in the quiet room. The amount of lovemaking they had fit into their few days there had left her feeling a little sore, but the burning desire overrode any discomfort she may have felt, and left her with a simple, pleasant, thoroughly shagged feeling. Besides, with the gentle pace he had been setting so far, she found herself wondering just how in tune with her feelings he was; it was just what she needed – slow and gentle and tender, sleep tugging at her mind deliciously.

He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes a hazy blur as their eyelashes fluttered together. Remus tilted his head down just a little to press a firm, quick kiss against her mouth, and returned. He pulled her body flush against him, sliding an arm just under the pillow so that he could wrap it comfortably around her back and anchor her firmly to him. The other trailed down, smoothing down along her spine, over her bottom until he could gently draw her leg up and hook it over his slim hip.

Tonks' breath came quick; "Let's never leave this bed," she said, her words hurried.

"We have to," Remus reminded her softly, watching her face gently as his fingers slowly caressed up her thigh. "And believe me it pains me to say that. I believe it would be in my greatest interest to never leave this bed-"

He smiled widely at her loud gasp, and a shiver of pleasure ran through her body as his fingers gently touched between her legs. Her lips spilled forth some muttered, pleasured nonsense, and she buried her face in his warm neck, his entire body calm and still as his fingers teased her. He ran one, slim finger through the warmth of her, just giving her enough pleasure and promise to leave her open and wanting, her body flushing. Tonks groaned gently into his neck, her fingers gripping the firm flesh of his upper arm for support.

Remus gently urged her face up towards his, swallowing the cry with a kiss as he pushed an achingly gentle finger inside her. With her leg over his hip, she was entirely open to him; trusting and vulnerable in his arms as two fingers slowly twisted and filled her achingly. He gently soothed away the friction that had left her sore, leaving her slick and awash with pleasure.

He touched her until she came, dropping into the intense waves of pleasure and writhing against his warm body as he whispered soothing nonsense against the side of her head. She tried to return the favour, but he drew her hands away, pressing a kiss against each palm and rolling her onto her back.

Pleasantly sated, Tonks watched him as he made love to her; watched him dissolve in pleasure and watched his face as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and rocked her hips up to meet his careful pace.

"Not quite Mr. Suave at the moment, are we?" Tonks muttered, low and amused, into his ear.

"Not quite a prude either," he reminded her, his voice strained. "Oh, _Nymphadora_."

He littered little kisses on her neck, and at the sound of her name – awful a name as it was – falling so desperately from his lips, she felt another orgasm stir deep inside her. Muttering encouragement in his ear, Tonks urged him to go faster, crying out as a second, gentler climax washed through her. Remus followed, his body tense, crying out softly as he pressed into her a few final times.

In silence, they settled back down into the covers, and drifted back to sleep. Remus draped a heavy arm around her waist. They slept for perhaps half an hour, and Tonks woke before Remus did, restless. A part of her felt anxious for their return to real life, not only because she had enjoyed their stay so much, but because she also feared the inevitable whispers and rumours that would surround their return. A handful of people suspected there was something between her and Remus, but the rest of the Order were oblivious, and to them Remus and Tonks were nothing more than co-workers.

Would it have escaped their notice that they had both disappeared for the weekend?

Like hell, it would.

She could handle it, but could Remus?

Tonks thought – and worried - for the rest of the morning. As she soaked in the hot water of her bath, she pondered just how effectively she would be able to cover it up; of course, there were bound to be people that deemed their relationship inappropriate. Snape, for example.

_The shape-shifter and the werewolf...how...apt. _

She could hear the sneer already.

It was when she had dried, dressed and was trying different shades of hair colour in the cracked old mirror that Remus found her. She stopped somewhere between pink and green, her nose scrunched up in concentration as she saw him reflected in the mirror behind her. She sighed, and settled on pink.

"Something's bothering you," he said, wrapping his flannel-clad arms around her middle. She could have been dressed for combat; even her boots were laced tightly on her feet.

"Nothing's bothering me," Tonks tried, her voice chipper as she stared at her own false expression.

He pressed a kiss against her ear, frowning. "I know you better than that, Nymphadora," he reminded her. "Do give me some credit. You only ever get out of bed before me when something's bothering you."

Tonks broke free of his arms and turned to face him, her bottom against the edge of the basin. "I'm great; just didn't want to waste the day away. When are we going?"

Remus frowned. "Whenever you like," he answered, still looking deeply suspicious. "Are you eager to get home?"

Tonks sighed, and avoided his eyes. "In fact, I'd bloody love to stay here for the rest of my life," she confided. "But still, we'd better crack on with it. Wars to be fought, dark wizards to be caught...paperwork to be done."

"Werewolves to become," he offered, with a fond smile.

"Molly's food to eat," Tonks reasoned.

He gave her a small smile that creased the skin of his cheeks just a little. Not fooled, he pressed a kiss against her forehead. "I know it's tempting to simply hide away from it all, but I know you, and I know us," he said. "We couldn't stay away if we tried."

Tonks laughed. "Hmm, couple of right old thrill seekers aren't we?" she replied.

Remus laughed with her, looking bashful. "Perhaps a few years ago; now I'm more of a passing thrill-acquaintance," he joked.

"You won't say no if it turns up at your door wearing nothing but a cloak and a pair of heels?" Tonks suggested lightly.

"Interesting way of putting it," he mused, amused.

She laughed, and it sounded hollow, so she pulled him forwards and buried her face in his chest, feeling the softness of his dressing gown and the head of his chest against her ear. His heart beat a steady rhythm and she listened for a moment, content to stay with him like this forever; in the tiny, damp bathroom, in his arms.

"Shall we go back?" he muttered into her hair.

"Back to bed?" she asked hopefully, raising her head to look at his face.

Remus chuckled. "Back to London," he amended.

"I like my idea better," she muttered, and he found her fingers and laced his own through them.

Tonks gave a noncommittal hum and snuggled back into him, stroking his back. He sighed and relaxed against her, his chin resting on top of her newly spiked hair. So gently that she barely felt it, he rocked her back and forth, and Tonks found herself wishing that she has stayed in bed and gotten another few hours of sleep. His chest was solid and warm, and he smelt of sex and his shampoo.

She took a bracing, deep breath and pulled herself away from him. "I'll get my things together," she declared, leaving him in the bathroom to get ready. She felt his eyes on her as she walked from the room.

"Wait," he protested, confused, and called down the hallway. "At least let me make you some breakfast."

She didn't want the break drawn out and painful; better that they leave the cottage at once before she got even more attached.

"No, no," she called back. "We need to get a move on if we want to get back."

The cold room in which she had longed for her own warm bed all weekend had never looked so inviting; suddenly she loved the peeling paint on the windowsill and the cramped old desk in the corner. The sun was glaring through the window, beating down mercilessly on the snow that had lingers for several weeks. She crammed her things into her rucksack hastily, not bothered about them creasing, or paring the socks. Her entire body already felt the withdrawal from the cottage, and they hadn't even left yet. Somewhere inside her stomach, she longed for something to do; to be amidst the chaos and the battle, but the weekend had been so perfect – a glimpse of what could have been if they hadn't been in a war.

When she walked downstairs, she found him placing a pot of hot tea, and two plates of fresh toast on the small kitchen table. He was fully dressed to leave, but something in his expression told her that he wasn't going to budge quickly. Remus glanced up at her at the sound of her footsteps on the hard wood floor. Carefully, he walked over to her and gently tugged the rucksack off the shoulder. Tonks sighed, and shot him an apologetic glance.

"I know all too well when something's bothering you," he told her factually, "because you're always in a rush to run away from it. Whatever it is, sit down and tell me."

Tonks rolled her eyes and plonked herself on the kitchen chair, fiddling aimlessly with her toast. "I need some more butter, I think, do you want some? And jam; can't have toast without jam. Do you have any? I'll look," she declared, and rose from her chair awkwardly.

As she passed Remus' chair, he sighed and hooked an arm around her hips, tugging her backwards onto his lap. Tonks tried to squirm away, half irritated at being forced to talk about things she had no desire to talk about.

They were walking on the baby's legs of their relationship as a serious affair, and her stupid, illogical mind was picturing them living here together. And if she was honest, her fantasies were no stranger to wedding bands and little, sandy haired children pottering around. Oh, but it was all so ridiculous. She didn't want children; she didn't want marriage. Not right at that moment, at least. So long as they were together, she didn't care.

She was utterly absurd.

And he wasn't going to find out where her thoughts had decided to stray. Not under pain of death. Ever. Never, ever. No, she refused.

"So, what is it?" he asked, nonchalantly, biting into a piece of toast, whilst his free arm kept a tight grip on her waist.

"It's nothing," she lied firmly. "You're imagining things."

"I am not," he insisted, and his fingers brushed her dip of her waist, his breath warm and fresh against her face. He was playing dirty and he knew it. "Tell me; please, Nymphadora?"

Tonks snorted, though her breath was a little shaky. "You're not going to get anything out of me using that awful name."

"I thought you liked it when I called you that," he reminded her gently.

Tonks lifted her chin indignantly. "I'll tolerate it," she corrected. "When my attention is otherwise occupied."

"Interesting," he rasped, and she knew he was trying – and succeeding – to distract said attention and weaken her resolve. Still, a fully trained Auror wasn't quite so easily distracted...

Would he make a good father? _Oh, Merlin, Tonks; listen to yourself._

"Nymphadora?"

"Hmm?" she replied, not listening.

His lips skimmed her neck, his warm pleasant on her skin. She was fully dressed for the cold, so his hands didn't feel as close as she would have liked them to through her thick robes and woolly jumper, but she leant her face against his warm cheek and revelled in the familiar presence of his next to her; the comfort he brought somewhere deep beneath her skin.

"Time to go?" he asked, with a sigh, and eased her out of his lap. Tonks blinked, a little disorientated, and agreed, wolfing her breakfast down, glad of the warmth of the food as it settled in her wanting stomach. The tea had cooled a little so she gulped that down in a hurry also, feeling Remus' eyes on her as she did so. She knew it would crop back up; he would ask her about it in a few days just as she thought she had gotten away with it, and catch her off guard. Maybe she would tell him. Maybe she wouldn't. All she knew was that she felt ashamed to be thinking such things. They were in a war, and couldn't afford the luxuries her mind had strayed towards. Their life together was complicated enough.

All too soon, Remus was locking up. Tonks cast a final glance around the lounge, feeling his eyes follow her.

Once they were clear of the slick-icy drive, they apparated, hand in hand. The walls pressed in on her, and she held onto him as tightly as she could.

Back to London; back to the war.

As far away from her own ridiculous mind as she could get.

* * *

"Keep your hands still, Tonks, dear," Molly apprehended, as one of her aching wrists twitched just a little from their steady position. "That's it."

Molly wrapped the wool around Tonks' flat hands, which she held out, palms facing inwards. The softness of the wool grazed the skin around her knuckles and Tonks tried to fight the restlessness that had settled within her. Her eyes flickered between the clock and the elder Weasley mother. Quite how this was supposed to take her mind off Remus, Tonks wasn't sure, but it seemed to be doing the job. Hours passed slowly but surely, and Tonks enjoyed the sense of having a purpose; Molly needed her to keep her hands steady so that the wool could remain untangled. Still, every now and then a sudden burst of adrenaline would surge through her, and her hands would shake with the thought of flesh ripping, bones cracking, teeth elongating.

"He's been doing it all his life," Molly reminded her, peering up from the wool. "You've nothing to worry about, dear. Nothing was ever achieved with worry, and Remus is perfectly capable of handling himself."

"I know," Tonks muttered. "If he'd just let me..."

"What colour jumper would you prefer, dear? Blue or yellow?" Molly asked, swerving her away from the worrisome topic.

"Oh, you don't have to knit me a jumper, Molly," Tonks shrugged, feeling shocked and a little self conscious.

She had already invaded Molly's house invited. "Nonsense, dear, I'd like to. Arthur and the Children already have more than they can wear in a month and I gave Remus a good few at Christmas. You only got one, dear. I'd like to do another for you. Perhaps a nice pale pink to go with your hair?"

Tonks smiled, genuinely touched, and Molly returned it, tapping the wool with her wand. It changed from a rather lurid orange to a soft, pale pink that Tonks wouldn't have picked ordinarily, but she had to admit that it would make a warm, soft, cosy jumper. And it would indeed look harmonious with her hair.

"Thanks, Molly," Tonks muttered. "For everything."

"It's no trouble," Molly replied briskly, and wound the last few pieces of wool around Tonks fingers, then carefully lifted the neat coil from her fingers, careful not to ruin their hard work. "I enjoy making them. And aside from Ginny and Myself, I don't get to knit girl's jumpers all too often. It's a joy. And we certainly can't pull off too many shades of pink with our colouring."

Tonks smiled, and wondered at the Weasley family; wondered if Molly's longing for a girl had ever relented after so many boys. Still, she had had Ginny, finally.

"Would you like a reindeer on the front, Tonks?" Molly asked absently, and began work on the new jumper. "Oh, no, it's a little late for that, isn't it? How about a unicorn?"

"Sounds great," Tonks agreed, feeling a little excited. "Anything but a wolf."

Molly laughed, and glanced at Tonks with fond eyes. "I'll bet you're just about the only person that can get away with saying those things. Anyone else and Remus would take it straight to heart."

"I think his inability to take me seriously comes in handy as far as my sense of humour is concerned," Tonks admitted.

"Oh," Molly waved a hand in dismissal. "He doesn't find it difficult to take you seriously, I'm sure. He's simply far too in love to let such things affect him."

Tonks felt her face heat up, and looked at the dusty rug beneath her feet. So rarely did anyone see through into the truth surrounding her and Remus. Their relationship was shrouded in mystery and duty which, to others, would most likely look like nothing more than some passing flirtation. A connection, perhaps, but Molly had already clocked it as love. _Love_. The word tasted strange most of the time, particularly when she wasn't talking about it to Remus.

"Molly..." she began, sure that she should be protesting just a little, at least. Unsure how to continue the sentence, Tonks sighed in resignation. What could she say, really?

"Oh, don't bother, Tonks," Molly batted her away affectionately. "There's no use pretending. I've enough experience with young girls and boys to know when two people are in love. That summer when Percy was rather taken with a young girl, and of course I'm waiting for the day when Ron grows up a bit and, well, I won't be surprised if Hermione doesn't take a fancy to him once he does. And of course, Ginny turns the colour of the setting sun whenever Harry's near. Well, she did do, once upon a time. She won't talk about it anymore, so something must have gone awry."

Molly gave a contented hum at the thought of her children and their lessons in love. Tonks thought fondly of the children she had met over the summer; she thought of her chats with Ginny and seeing herself at that age staring back at her, and Harry's eyes that had always seemed a little too old for his face, and Ron with his unwavering loyalty.

Once again, Tonks glanced at the clock and sighed; Remus would be transformed by now. Hiding in a room, with his mind still – hopefully – intact but his body given to the wolf. She thought of what the morning would bring, of how he had agreed to let her see him and bring him a healing potion; a breakthrough.

"I'm seeing him in the morning," Tonks muttered, needing to talk to someone.

Molly paused, mid-stitch. "Are you indeed," she noted, and seemed to approve. "I have told him several times that you could handle it."

Tonks blinked, surprised. "You have?"

"I have," Molly confirmed, and resumed knitting. "Of course, he's always been reluctant. Sirius is who he's used to. In fact, once I had to help him because Sirius was...well, in no state to do it. He seemed incredibly guarded; I've never seen him so...well, tetchy. I suppose it was the shock of seeing me. He did teach my children after all; perhaps it was a little odd for me to walk in before he'd even got dressed. But I'm the mother of boys; it's nothing I haven't seen before!"

Tonks blinked, and bit back a laugh at the thought of Molly walking in on Remus starkers. She thought of the horror on his face and the brisk, matronly manner that Molly would have adopted as she bustled around the room and gave him time to cover up.

"Molly," Tonks laughed. "One day I may just have to acquire a Pensieve so you can show me that particular memory."

Molly smiled, and blushed a little.

"He's said I can see him at midday," Tonks continued. "I'm taking him his potion."

"Oh," Molly realised, and nodded. "Yes, he'll need time to sleep. I suppose he can keep you away from the things he doesn't want you to see, that way. That man; some day he'll realise just how noble he is, and how it's held him back."

Tonks swallowed; she didn't want him to protect her from anything. She had seen the breakthrough as such an intimate things – such a miracle. But really, all he was doing was placating her. He wasn't letting her in at all; not really.

Molly seemed to sense her thoughts. "He just needs time to adjust, dear," she reassured the younger witch. "In no time at all, he'll need you there straight away. You'll see."

"I hope so," Tonks replied, and watched as the pale pink, woollen panel began to grow into her new jumper. "I really hope so, Molly."

And she did.

* * *

"Right," Tonks muttered to herself, preparing. "Man down; keep calm, and carry on."

She pushed the door open, and peered into the dark room. The curtains were drawn tight, and the barest of midday sun was peeking through the top and bottom, casting a pale glow around the dingy room. In the centre of the familiar room – the room in which they had spent New Year's Eve, she blushed – was the bed, and lying face down under a pile of blankets, was an exhausted and pale-looking Remus.

She let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding and crossed over to him, careful not to startle him.

As she perched herself on the edge of the bed, she noticed a few bruises on his back. No cuts, though, she noted with relief, thankful for the Wolfsbane and Jasper. With a steady hand, she reached out and placed her palm between his shoulder blades, feeling the smooth skin she had clutched so many times, hot beneath the surface where he bled and bruised inside. She scuffed her thumb a few times over his skin, and saw his eyelids flicker as she pulled him as gently as she could from his deep sleep.

He gave a dry-sounding swallow, and Tonks reached for the goblet of water on his bedside table, succeeding in knocking it down in her haste. Her loud curse woke him properly, and Remus gazed for a moment in confusion at her as the cleaned up the spilled water. At least it hadn't been the potion.

"Wotcher," she said, a little too brightly, and saw him wince at her volume. "Sorry. Wotcher."

"Hello," he croaked, and shut his eyes once more as the lull and allure of pain-free sleep fought with the unappealing prospect of staying awake.

"Don't go back to sleep," she urged, and took hold of the potion she had brought up for him. "Or at least drink this before you do."

Remus peered at her through one bloodshot eye, and sighed deeply, realising what she had brought him. With a groan, he rolled onto his stomach and sat up, wincing deeply at his bruised stomach. Tonks' eyes followed the river of bruises down his neck, across his chest and down his stomach, to where they disappeared under the blankets. He took the goblet from her gently and downed its contents, his face smooth and relaxed.

The change was instantaneous; he didn't wince or frown with the pain, but instead his face - and whole body in fact - seemed to relax and become peaceful. He slid bonelessly back into the cushions and sighed, content. Whatever was in there, Jasper had done well.

"Still with me?" Tonks asked, amused.

"Hmm," he agreed, slurring his words and peering at her through half-closed eyes. "Better. Dora..."

Tonks froze; he had never called her Dora before. His drugged up tongue seemed to favour it before her stupid first name, though, and Tonks didn't mind that her dad called her that too, or that it reminded her that she hadn't seen her parents for months, because he was so darn adorable that he could call her She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and she wouldn't give a hoot.

"Remus," she smiled back, and took his hand.

He blinked up at her a few more times, drugged to the brim with pain-relief and a little disorientated. "My Dora," he rasped, and cupped her face with a clumsy palm. She smiled against his hand and leant into his touch, love filling every inch of her body as she watched him struggle to stay awake. "Come to bed?"

Tonks laughed; he obviously had forgotten all of his misgivings about her seeing him so soon after the full moon. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"

Remus tugged her down and she went with a roll of her eyes, not really caring. His limbs moved slowly and sluggishly as he gathered her up in a warm embrace, and she was surrounded by hot, naked Remus. Tonks laughed into his chest and burrowed closer.

"I take it you don't object to me being here after all?" she asked, slyly, and planted a kiss in the middle of his chest.

"Not at all," he muttered, sluggish. "You're a little overdressed, though."

"Oh, are you really up for that?" Tonks asked, dubious.

Remus groaned. "Probably not," he agreed. "Still, would be nice, though."

"I'll bet," Tonks snorted in amusement at his drugged up, medicated reasoning. "I'm sure Molly wouldn't have approved of you dragging her into bed and telling her to take her clothes off."

Remus' shoulders stiffened a little. "I'd rather...hoped...to suppress that particular memory."

Tonks laughed, and he sighed, seeming torn between sleep and staying awake to converse with her. "I'll bet," she chimed nonchalantly. "I won't be letting you for quite a long time, you understand?"

"I would expect nothing less," he replied, and yawned through most of his words.

Tonks smiled, and pressed a kiss against his dry lips. He hummed his approval and cupped the back of her head, keeping her against him. Slowly and surely, his tongue began to brush her bottom lip, and Tonks sighed with relief and pleasure, the feel of him safe and free of another month's anguish running through her bones.

She ended up shedding her robes simply to feel him against her, his hands skimming under her thin Weird Sister's t-shirt to put his palm flat against the smooth patch of skin in the small of her back. His breath came in small puffs against her temple, and she hooked a bare leg around one of his, her plain knickers low on her hips.

"What would you do without me?" Tonks teased.

"Hmm, suffer, no doubt," he answered sleepily, his hand settling on her hip, slipping just beneath the waistband of her underwear.

Remus yawned hugely, and began to draw slow, even breaths.

"I'll just have to stick around then, won't I?" Tonks smiled.

"Or you'll just have to marry me."

Tonks eyes shot open, her heart skipping a rhythm, but Remus' eyes were firmly shut and he drew long breaths through his mouth, which hung open a little as he slept soundlessly, mindless to the emotions surging through Tonks' mind and body.

For the hours which he slept, Tonks sat bolt-upright, her eyes darting between her lover and the wall opposite her. Her entire being was tensed; alert. His words hung around the room; a cliff-hanger she needed to resolve for her own sanity. He had been half asleep when he had said it; chances were he didn't even remember.

And she most certainly wasn't going to bring it up;

_Remus, I should probably remind you that in a drug-induced coma, you mentioned the vague possibility of marriage. Just thought I'd mention it. I'll get my dress robes, shall I?_

To push him would only result in a step backwards for their relationship.

When, finally, at the very end of the daylight hours, he woke, Tonks watched him. His eyes flickered open blearily, and his brow furrowed a little in pain, but his eyes were clear of the red capillaries that had haunted them the last time he had woken, and his face looked a little brighter. The hours in bed had given his hair a pleasantly ruffled appearance, and he couldn't have looked more delicious if he had tried.

Sitting there, next to him, for hours had only given her time to work herself into frenzy.

"Evening," Tonks greeted, thoroughly glad to have some company at last.

"Have you been there all day?" Remus asked, peering up at her.

"Well," Tonks began, picking at the bedcovers self-consciously. "I didn't want you to be alone. I'm not needed in the office, anyway."

Remus sighed, and heaved himself up, curling a gentle hand around her jaw. "Sweetheart, you didn't need to stay," he told her, and kissed her firmly.

"I wanted to," she protested against his mouth, and he sighed, his shoulders relaxing. "It was only a few hours. I didn't get much sleep last night, either."

He seemed intent of thanking her, his warm, naked body pressing her down into the covers. His bruises had really started to bloom, and Tonks half wondered if he was up to it, but as he drew her t-shirt up over her head, she wasn't in any position to object. She smiled widely as he made short work of her bra, the soft hair of his fringe against her collarbone as he cupped and caressed her newly exposed skin. The air in the room was cool and damp, and her nipples pebbled pleasantly.

They made love slowly, mindful of his sore body. Tonks pressed him against the mattress, her hips moving slowly against his, and he gazed up at her like she was the best thing in the world, his head thrown back a little.

Her mind kept straying backwards;

_You'll just have to marry me._

He sat up to meet her, his arms coming around her in a familiar embrace. She clenched in his lap, moaning softly into his shoulder, and he drew her face up towards his with a gentle touch beneath her chin. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, and stilled her hips.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes lidded and his breath short.

"Nothing," Tonks denied, trying to slide her hips back into the torturous rhythm, but he held her bottom still with a strong hand. "Remus..."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong. Something was bothering you yesterday morning, and you've got that same look now. Tell me, please?"

Tonks bit her lip. "You called me Dora," she blurted, lying. "I just...I just wondered why."

Remus frowned. "I wasn't aware of doing it," he admitted, and then smiled against her chin. "Dora; I like it. It sounds more..."

"Stupid?"

"Affectionate," he finished, and kissed the tip of her nose lightly.

Tonks sighed, relieved that he seemed to have been thrown off the scent. Gently, she rocked her hips back and forth, watching as his eyes glazed over a little, and his mouth fell open. She shuddered with pleasure, her entire body restless with the energy she had worked up all day. Her hips fidgeted and her fingers moved along the length of his back quickly and firmly, kneading the tension from his muscles.

His hands clutched her back, gathering her up against him in a familiar gesture as they so often made love. She loved him like this; beneath her, around her, inside her, with his strong shoulders beneath her arms and hands to keep her balance and give her leverage.

Tonks moaned, and pulling an answering moan from him. She noted with pride that they hadn't broken the spell of love-making they had enjoyed at the cottage, even with him recovering from the full moon.

_Marry me._

She would look ridiculous in white dress-robes.

Utterly ridiculous.

She felt her shoulders relax a little in the knowledge that he didn't remember his little remark, but the fact that he had said it in the first place sent her mind reeling. Every move he made inside her seemed to scream out that he fit so perfectly with her; so completely harmonious with her body and – for the most part – mind that why shouldn't they be married?

It seemed almost inevitable, and she should be happy about that, because marriage was being with someone forever. Still, it came with a few connotations that she didn't quite like; they would never be the classic married couple, even if they did unite in that way. It would just be words, and what they had right now was so perfect and fulfilling, but there was no pressure. It was an easy understanding that they were in love.

She paired the words _Remus_ and _Husband_ together and felt her insides clench, not with apprehension, but with pleasure.

They would be perfect.

It would be her _husband_ making love to her, beneath her and around her.

But still, he hadn't even asked her yet. Oh, Merlin, she thought, get a grip, Tonks.

She concentrated on their lovemaking; on the deep pressure inside and the growing pool of pleasure that threatened to flood her body. She latched onto the blossoming climax and followed it, up, up and over the edge, and she cried out softly and clench around him, feeling his body tighten and then relax beneath hers.

They collapsed, and she pressed kisses to his bruised skin; healed and soothed him. Their bodies were awash with the aftermath, and they curled together in a well-practice embrace, musing that they would get up and get ready for the meeting downstairs in a minute, or five. He sighed beneath her, and Tonks could tell that he was still exhausted, and felt a little bad for letting him engage – _oh, there was that bloody word, again_ – her in such amorous activities.

_This is Nymphadora Lupin; my wife._

She would have to start using her first name, she realised with a shudder. She would become someone else; someone she had sworn never to be.

Suddenly pleased that he had forgotten all talk of marriage, Tonks snuggled down into him, pushing thoughts of marriage aside and revelling in the feel of his skin beneath hers, and the moon done with for another blissful month.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**I hope this chapter satisfied; I did promise something a little more adult after the mild chapter last time, but I would never want to risk being overly explicit and ruining what I've written so far. As always, please leave a review; feedback inspires me greatly, and I always look forward to what you guys have to say! **


	20. Stay

**Hello, again! There has been a little wait for this chapter (and I lost almost all of it earlier today so had to rewrite). I hope pleases. Thank you once again for all of the feedback, it keeps me writing**. **This chapter is dedicated to all that reviewed, with special thanks to wonderwoundedhearers, for a review so long and lovely it made me get emotional, Mez and Kerry, for their encouragement and for being the wonderful people they are, Clare, for being a chapter-by-chapter reviewer of the highest standard and an all around lovely person. Everyone who has ever left a review, encouraged or even offered me critique, thank you, this is dedicated to you.**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Stay.

"Are you in pain, Remus?"

"Ah, what, sorry?"

Tonks glanced up from her critical reading of the Prophet – in which she had found with great satisfaction no slander of Remus, and minimal slander of Dumbledore and Harry – to find Emmeline leant across the kitchen table, her hands clasped in front of her as though they itched to reach for Remus.

"You know..." Emmeline whispered conspiratorially, as though mention of his affliction would remind Remus that he was, in fact, a werewolf, and he would grow a tail, furry ears and attack them all.

"Ah, well, its better than last night," Remus replied, sounding torn between feeling uncomfortable at the mention of his affliction, and being surprised that someone had brought it up for a change. She heard him hesitate, as though gauging whether or not Emmeline could handle a well-timed werewolf-related joke without hexing him into next Tuesday and leaving as quickly as possible. "I...I'm simply glad that I have the Wolfsbane."

Tonks smirked a little at the Prophet; clearly Remus had opted for the latter.

"Yes, yes," Emmeline nodded. "Of course."

"You know," Sirius drawled, his face serious and stony as he leaned over towards Emmeline. "It's still possible for Remus to become a werewolf in the three days after the full moon. If he gets angry."

Emmeline's eyes widened, then flickered, and Tonks saw reason catching up with the woman as she calculated the likelihood of Sirius' statement with the basic common sense and knowledge she had of Werewolves.

"I..." Emmeline looked unsure what to say, and looked towards Remus blithely. Remus gave her a small, reassuring smile and shook his head kindly, at which she visibly relaxed.

Sirius, obviously resentful that his new play-thing hadn't taken the bait, looked over to Tonks. "Anything worth reading?" he asked her, nodding his head towards the Prophet.

"Barely worth a glance," Tonks sighed, and shut the paper on an article dedicated to telling the reader _how to avoid Werewolves, Vampires and other Dark Creatures_.

Remus clocked the article before she could close it. "I should think the best way to avoid me would be to rub yourself down with garlic cloves and recite Rita Skeeter articles at the top of your lungs; I most certainly _wouldn't_ approach you," he mused, and Tonks bit back a laugh.

Sirius snorted, tossing black hair over his shoulder – which seemed to be remarkably shinier and cleaner than Tonks was used to seeing it. "You would probably think they were confounded and try to be a noble git and help," Sirius mused, sighing for a moment and looking restless.

Emmeline looked tremendously uncomfortable, glancing around the kitchen as though it were interesting. Tonks couldn't help but stare at the tired lines beneath her eyes and think back to that night in the Leaky Cauldron, when Emmeline had confessed her story and told Tonks that her baby son had died in the first war. Tonks felt her heart ache, and imagined the woman sat alone in her house. She had turned up early for the meeting, and the four of them had forty-five awkward minutes to fill until Molly and an almost recovered Arthur would show up and take the attention away from the gaping void of stunted conversation.

It hadn't escaped Tonks' notice that Emmeline was wearing her brightest of lipsticks, and her hair looked neatly brushed and tied back in a way that showed a few, burgeoning grey wisps of hair at her temples. Tonks tried to calculate her age, and had put her somewhere between thirty five and forty-two – not so far removed from Remus' age, she realised a little glumly.

Tonks suddenly felt very far removed from them all; very young and naive, but she brushed it off quickly, and plastered an uplifting smile on her face (until she caught Sirius looking at her with a heavy black eyebrow raised, at which point she opted for a more natural expression).

Emmeline bit her red lip, taking a little smudge of her lipstick off in the process, and gazed up at Remus, looking unsure what to say next. Remus still looked tired; the full moon's effects were slowly but surely leaving his body, but his bruises were still sore and his mind still tired. Emmeline gave a tiny little cough, glancing around as though looking for a saviour to pop out of nowhere and engage her in stimulating conversation.

Remus cleared his throat and said, "Well, I think it's just about time for a cup of tea. Can I tempt anyone?"

He made to get up, but Emmeline shot up out of her seat before his bottom had had even the slightest chance to lift off the hard wood stool. She smiled reassuringly at him, as one would smile at a patient on death's door. Tonks saw Sirius stare at Emmeline with a mixture of incredulity and amusement, his eyes flickering between Tonks, Remus and the older woman as though he'd just discovered a fascinating new toy. He probably had too; the bastard. It was so like her cousin to be outrageously gleeful upon discovering Emmeline more than likely had been harbouring a crush on Remus, and had chosen _now_ to try – in a bizarre and subtle, yet somehow achingly obvious – way to act upon it.

"Sit down, Remus," Emmeline said, in a way that would have been kind were she not visibly bristling with the sense of excited opportunity that had been presented to her. "I'll make it for you. Would anyone else like one?"

"Well," Sirius drawled, looking thoroughly entertained. "If you're up and offering, we won't say no, will we, Tonks?"

Tonks merely smiled. Remus was hovering, his behind perched somewhere between standing and sitting as though to sit down would to accept the implication of weakness, and perhaps – horror of all horrors - suggest that he was a chauvinistic git; Tonks watched with relish as his face conflicted with the idea of letting Emmeline make him the tea; she could see his face trying to figure out whether or not Emmeline was serious about not wanting help, visibly stumped by the idea that if he accepted her offered tea he might find himself suddenly and inexplicably engaged to the woman. Tonks snorted quietly in amusement, and tugged him down by the sleeve of his robe as Emmeline bustled about the kettle, and he landed with a sigh.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tonks," Emmeline called. "I don't know how you take your tea?"

"Milk and two sugars," Remus told her before Tonks could speak, and Tonks was sure that she saw Emmeline's shoulders still a little, before she continued with the tea making.

Tonks shot Remus a curious look, to which he threw his shoulders up in a _don't ask me _shrug, glancing at Emmeline in worry. Tonks thought she saw the worry flicker to genuine concern, and wanted to throw her arms around him for being so bloody noble about the woman's potential feelings, but she didn't think given the present company it would be the wisest of moves. They had endeavoured to keep their relationship as secret as possible, so as not to cause any friction and gossip within their work for the Order, and if Emmeline would have any possible motive to rat them out...well, Tonks thought, she wouldn't be pouncing on him in front of the woman, that was for sure.

Tonks sighed and reopened the Prophet, scanning the pages she had not read yet. Her eyes fell upon the '_Hearts to be Charmed'_ section. Somewhere in between Ella from Edinburgh who was looking for a Fun-Loving Wizard with a penchant to stun, and Jim from London who was searching for a Witch with a good sense of humour and a love for Mandrakes as strong as his, Sirius spied what she was looking at.

Her cousin snorted in good humour and flashed a teasing smile towards her. "Looking for someone to share your chocolate frogs with, Tonks?" he asked. "I never had you down as one for the _Hearts to be Charmed_ approach. You ought to be careful; there are a lot of creeps out there."

Tonks glared at him thoroughly, and his grin widened. She felt Remus reading over her shoulder.

"Indeed, Sirius," Remus said hoarsely. "Didn't _you_ respond to one of these once?"

Sirius winked, taking his tea from Emmeline. "She said she was looking for tall, dark and handsome with a great sense of balance. Who was I to deny her a chance at her dream man?"

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "And _do_ you have a good sense of balance?"

"Oh, yes, I have a good sense of everything."

"Everything except reality," Tonks offered sweetly, and turned back to her paper.

Emmeline had placed everyone's tea in front of them, her eyes lowered. They all thanked her, and sipped at their hot drinks, feeling it warm them through from the inside. Emmeline's eyes, once raised, were trained on Remus as he scanned the paper of Tonks' shoulder. Tonks could feel his breath graze her ear and tried not to smile. She shifted ever so slightly, and let the bone of her knee rest against the warmth of his thigh.

He cleared his throat. "So, anything scandalous, Nymphadora? Has anyone we know placed an advertisement?"

"Hmm," Tonks pondered. "Lonely, mature gentleman seeks fun-loving Witch, preferably an avid potions-lover. Could be Snape?"

Sirius snorted half of his tea back into the cup. "I don't think Severus would be seeking a _fun-loving_ witch," Remus pointed out, and gently eased the paper from under her elbows and closed it, effectively ending the line of conversation. Tonks could not help bristling with annoyance at having her newspaper taken from her, and tugged it back indignantly, feeling his eyes upon her face.

Emmeline cleared her throat softly. "I suppose some people are simply unlucky in love and need a little help," she suggested, a little too defensively, and Tonks tried not to wince; had they been inadvertently mocking the poor woman? "Remus, is your tea alright? I wondered if I put a little too much milk in.

"It's perfect, thank you," Remus replied kindly, his voice a little hoarse.

"All I'm saying is," Emmeline continued, her eyes alight with opinions, "that young people rush into love. Get too caught up in it, when in fact they haven't finished growing as a person yet, and that's when it all falls apart. I think you're far more able to love truly when you reach your thirties. Then you know who you are and know what you want from life. Don't you agree?"

"I feel as though I should be defending young people," Tonks laughed, and it came out a little cold.

"But you must admit," Emmeline reasoned, her eyes bright, "that young people rush head first into things they're not ready for. Surely you must have felt that way? I know that when I was at Hogwarts, I fell in love at least twice a week."

"I'm _not_ at Hogwarts."

Silence. The air hung thick with tension, and Tonks could feel Remus shift uncomfortably next to her in his seat, pulling his knee away from hers as though the argument were contagious. She watched him out of the corner of her eye; watched him stare at the table before him and rest his chin on the folded dome of his fingers. Tonks wanted to turn to him and shake him by the arm; tell him to stand up for her.

"I meant no disrespect," Emmeline continued. "I'm sorry, but you are one of the younger members of the Order. It's no slight on you whatsoever. I merely wanted a young person's perspective. Do you think that young people can fall in love? Real love?"

"Of course I do," Tonks said stiffly.

"You know," Sirius piped up, a smirk playing around his mouth. "I was in love five times in one night once. A man's got to do what a man's got to do."

For a moment, everyone stared blankly at the dark haired wizard, their mouths slightly agape. Tonks saw Remus hold back a smirk, trying to arrange his features into something more suitable to the current air of tension, and failing miserably. Tonks felt the urge to hit him rise like a burning flame. When they were alone...

"Exactly my point," Emmeline concurred, her lips pursed. "True love comes from perseverance, negotiation and mutual respect."

"That sounds like a dull way to love," Tonks noted, feeling her nails dig into her palms.

"And you know better on the matter?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"I'm in love."

"Oh?"

Tonks could feel the tension in Remus shoulders as though her hands were on him. It came off him in waves, and Tonks tried to calm herself, lest she let slip more than she should. She took deep breaths and felt her face flush as her own words resounded inside her own head. Her knuckles gripped at the table's edge, white and locked.

"It's puppy love."

"Excuse me?" Tonks asked, seething higher and higher into the fires of fury from which there was no escape.

"I had a man that I was in love with once, Tonks. I was around the same age as you, and I had a child. Everything seems real at the time, and it's only once you look back on it that you see it for what it really was."

"And what's that?"

"Lust. Anyone can lust, say, over a Gilderoy Lockhart book cover-"

"That would be strange."

"Excuse me?"

"Now he's hospitalized and can't even write his own name, it would be strange to lust after him."

"That's not the point, Tonks. What do you think, Remus?"

Tonks had never seen him speechless; there had been times, often spent in bed, when he seemed to struggle for words, but now his face flushed in a very different way, and his lips struggled around his response, his brow furrowed. He folded his hands together in front of him and became very interested in his own palms, eventually attempting to redeem himself with an exaggerated cough and a thoughtful expression. Everyone seemed to wait with baited breath for his answer.

"I think..." he seemed to be measuring his words carefully. "That it depends entirely on the individual."

Emmeline held him within her gaze for a moment, her light blue eyes regarding him a little too thoroughly for Tonks' liking. She felt humiliated and diminished, and had never expected it from Emmeline, who had always seemed so nice, if a little troubled.

Almost as though she could sense Tonks' embarrassment, Emmeline looked her straight in the eye. "I mean it as no slight to you, of course. I'm merely discussing young people in general."

Tonks shifted uncomfortably, and sipped at the cold dregs of tea at the bottom of her cup, trying to calm down.

"So, who is it? Do you mind me asking?"

"Yes, I do-"

"Oh, my dears! Are we late? I got so preoccupied by wrapping the leftovers of this Pie that I overlooked the time! If anyone's hungry I can heat some up? Have you eaten? Arthur, dear, don't stand like that the Healers said it was bad for your wounds, remember? Is...everything alright?"

Remus seemed to have found his voice. "Everything's fine, Molly, and you're not late in the slightest, here; let me help you with that."

Molly stood at the bottom of the stairs, Arthur close behind her leaning heavily on a walking stick. As Remus stood and relieved her of the wrapped dishes in her arms, she gave him a flustered thanks and fluffed out her bright hair, unwrapping herself from the confines of her cloak as she surveyed the room before her with suspicious eyes.

Suddenly, Emmeline released herself from the confines of tension and sprang to her feet. "I'll help you heat that up, Remus, if you like," she suggested, and Tonks wouldn't have thought anything of it had the conversation that they had just had not taken place.

Tonks bit her tongue, and watched as Emmeline re-secured her hair and slipped a pair of oven mitts over her hands.

She saw them talking politely and watched with her teeth held over her bottom lip, pondering whether or not she should be upset. On one hand, Tonks knew that Remus was not interested in Emmeline, and trusted him implicitly. But there was something in the way she held herself, and the wisps of grey that seemed to correspond to Remus' that make Tonks begin to analyse how they would look as a couple compared to herself and Remus. She had always thought they balanced each other out well, but she watched kitchen utensils being passed between Remus and Emmeline, domestic tips floating around the kitchen, and little jokes being shared, she could help but feel – as Emmeline was saying – very young.

"What on earth was that about, dear?" she heard Molly whisper in her ear, and Tonks gave a shrug.

Molly's gaze must have tracked her own, and landed on the pair of thirty-something domestic geniuses, because the elder witch placed a comforting hand on Tonks' shoulder and squeezed gently, before leaving to get some plates.

Tonks glanced at Sirius. "What?" she asked a little too harshly, finding his eyes trained on her.

For once, he didn't look amused, just gave her a little wink. It reassured her somewhat.

Tonks caught snatches of their conversation, which Molly had now joined in on.

"No, I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd come by early..."

"...really, no trouble, Molly, I can handle it..."

Before she knew it, Remus hand set a large plate full of food in front of her, and was taking his place next to her once again while Molly and Emmeline lingered around the stove.

Sirius looked at their plates drolly. "Dare I ask where mine is?" he drawled, and with a resigned sigh went to fetch some food for himself.

"Alright?" Remus asked under his breath, leaning over to her slightly.

"Just peachy," Tonks said through gritted teeth.

With everyone turned away from the couple, Remus took the opportunity to lean over fully and press a sweet, nuzzling kiss against her temple. Tonks picked up her fork and felt his lips linger, wondering just how many risks he was willing to take with the present company. He didn't seem to care, and moved down to skim his lips against her cheekbone, closing with one final, firm little kiss against the hollow of her ear. He pulled away just as the other occupants turned around with their plates, and Tonks sighed and tucked into her plate of pie. Her anger had given her a raging appetite.

Arthur took a seat next to Remus, and engaged him in conversation. It occurred to Tonks then that Arthur – who had been standing behind them – may have seen their little exchange. She flushed with the thought, wondering why it bothered her so that people might see.

Before too long, other Order members were arriving, shaking off their cloaks and the cold rain from outside. The room was buzzing with apprehension, and Tonks spied Kingsley in the corner. Work had been dull, and Scrimgeour had called them both into his office yet again for a reminder on employee's loyalty. Tonks had thought her boss looked a little haggard.

Remus remained close to her all evening, but said very little. Whenever Tonks would ask him what was wrong, he would pause for a moment and look as though he were lost.

At nine o'clock, just before the meeting began officially, Mad-Eye limped up to them. His hair was damp from the rain, and his magical eye lingered on Mundungus, who was clutching at his stomach – which looked abnormally lumpy – and hastily avoiding anyone who tried to talk to him. When the Auror reached them, he held out a hand to Remus.

"Well done, Lupin," Mad-Eye enthused, shaking the younger man's hand vigorously. "With a mind like yours on the case, we can't lose."

"What case?" Tonks blurted, looking between them.

Mad-Eye paused, and released Remus' hand. Remus looked thoroughly uncomfortable, smiling meekly at the ex-Auror.

"You'll hear about it tonight, lass, I daresay. And Lupin can do the job better than anyone I know. Well, of course he would be able to, but that's neither here nor there."

"What are you talking about?" Tonks asked Remus this time, and he sighed wearily, running a hand over his face.

"I had meant to tell you tonight," Remus said quietly, his eyes flickering to Mad-Eye. "Alastor, would you excuse us?"

Remus led her up the stairs, ignoring the fact that people were beginning to sit down for the start of the meeting. The hallway was cool, but Tonks felt her skin heat up and prickle in apprehension. The distant chink of glasses and murmur was lost as the door closed, protected by the enchantments woven into the wood.

"Remus...what's going on?"

He cupped her face in his hands, and for a moment Tonks allowed the feel of his rough palms to sooth the ache that had settled in the centre of her mind.

What else could go wrong?

"Love, I have to go away."

She didn't know where, when, or what for, but she knew it couldn't be good. The whimper fell from her lips; "No."

"Look," he reasoned, a little desperately, and rested his forehead against hers, "it's just for a day or two. They want me to go underground and gather information. I wouldn't be gone long, I promise you. Dumbledore warned me that this kind of work may crop up, and asked me yesterday whether I would take the task next week."

"Next week?" Tonks hissed. "And underground where? Doing what? Gathering what information from whom..?"

"I think...that you know the answer to that already."

Tonks went cold, and gripped the front of his robes. "Are you mad? You're going to get yourself killed."

"Do you have so little faith in me?"

"I...it's not about faith in you, Remus. It's about werewolves. It's...it's dangerous."

Tonks knew that she wasn't making a very good case, and the words in her head bounced around at such a pace that they could seem to reach her mouth in a coherent order. She wanted to curl herself around him and not let anyone near him, and smooth away his worry lines with her fingers and scream at him to stop being so bloody noble because she needed him and...

"I'm fully aware that it's dangerous, Tonks," he said, a little too coolly.

Tonks found his hands with hers and squeezed, grazing her thumbs over his skin. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was waiting for the right moment, but it didn't come. I was going to tell you tonight, but then you had that argument with-"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"-and then there was no time and you were..."

"So," Tonks said, playing with his fingers. "You were just going to go? Or just going to let me find out during the meeting where I couldn't bloody hide?"

"That was never my intention and you know it."

"Remus, please, I have a bad feeling about this," Tonks implored, her face close to his. They kept their voices low, so as not to disturb Mrs Black's sleeping portrait. "Please, please, _please_. I'm begging you. Don't go."

"You know this is for the Order. You _know_ we must make sacrifices, and yet you ask me to stay?"

"Yes," Tonks hissed. "Because you're everything, Remus...my..._my_ _everything_. And I can't let this happen. Oh God, you're going to go, aren't you? You'll go and you'll be hurt and I'll lose you and oh, God, I knew this was going to happen."

"Nothing will happen to me. I'm perfectly capable of-"

He broke off, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be calming himself.

Tonks stepped forward, blinking away her stinging eyes, and cupped his face in her palms.

"I..._can't_ lose you."

Her voice cracked, and something seemed to break in his face. His mouth grappled with words, and he bent down a little to hold her against him, his arms coming tight around her, and she buried her face in the warmth of his jumper and whispered _please_ like a mantra; like if she said it enough it would break into his soul and alter reality. Make him change his mind and stay with her. Somewhere inside her though, something ugly growled.

_Selfish_.

His shoulders were strong under her arms, and for a moment he buried his face in the softness of her hair, nuzzling gently as though to soothe her.

"It's alright."

"_I know. I know, it's alright." _

His voice shook through her as she remembered him picking her up from the floor and embracing her all of those months ago. Telling her it would be alright. She scrunched her eyes shut.

She could see everything on the line; every touch and embrace and kiss they had ever had flash through her mind as though it were drowning. What she could lose hung precariously between them, and every feeling she had for him seemed to sing around her skin. She took a deep breath, and was thankful that the tears hadn't come. It would not do to make him feel worse by being upset, even in every inch of her were screaming out to rage and scream at the walls and spirit him away somewhere secret.

"I want you to stay with me," she told him seriously.

"You know that I can't."

She looked at him for a moment; dark circles under his eyes and sloping shoulders that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"But..." she warned her eyes boring into his. "You won't be gone long...?"

"Not long at all," he assured, "we've gone longer without seeing each other. Just a few days, Tonks, to gather information and see if anyone is interested in joining our cause."

Defeated and weary, Tonks nodded. Her head pounded with images of him in danger; surrounded by feral werewolves, attacked, vulnerable and bleeding. Her Remus, who was gentler than the summer breeze, put in a situation that could break him down to a pulp. Were she not forbidden to see Dumbledore, she would have been in his office immediately, demanding that he not go ahead with the mission. Was there any hope? Could they really rally werewolves?

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, and chuckled. "You worry too much."

"Hmm, your fault. I was carefree before I met you."

"My Dora," he breathed, and tilted her head up for a kiss.

When his lips met hers, she felt the tension ease gently from her body. His hands found her back and pulled her flush against him, and he pressed sweet, lingering kisses to her lips, his nose brushing her own gently. She sighed against him; fisting her hands in his robes to pull him closer, and his fingers brushed the shell of her ear and sent a shiver of delight spiralling through her.

"We're ready to start the meeting now."

They broke apart as though burnt, and stared, flustered at Emmeline Vance, who was standing in the doorway, her face impassive.

"Of course," Remus said, breathless. "We'll...we'll be right there."

Emmeline nodded and retreated, her face stone cold. Tonks glanced worriedly up at Remus, whose face was weary and his eyes tired.

He gave her hand a squeeze.

"Come on, let's get this over with."

* * *

"I didn't want to wake you."

Tonks gave no response. Curled beneath his sheets, she watched as he pulled on his cloak, fastening it. On the chair sat a rucksack. Outside, she heard the rain beat down on the window, thumping a rhythm into the room. It seemed like a warning; a reason why he should crawl back under the covers and into her arms.

He seemed to track her line of thought. "It's only two days, love, remember?"

"I know," Tonks said finally, her voice scratchy with sleep. "And if you haven't found anyone by then?"

"Then so be it," he reasoned, and crossed the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. Her body curled around, leaving a small patch next to her stomach in which he could perch.

The bed was warm and lingered with the scent of him, and Tonks snuggled deeper, reminding herself that it was the weekend, and her day off. It must have been early, because the light was pale through the rain, and her body still ached for sleep.

"Don't get up," he urged her. "There's no need, and you look so..."

"So what?"

"Beautiful," he told her, and his eyes shone.

Tonks swallowed the lump in her throat at the thought that this was their goodbye for two days; two days in which he couldn't write or contact her, in which his life could be at stake...in which his days would be filled with those who didn't know civilisation as he did.

"I want you back in the state I left you, understand?" she told him firmly, and gripped his hand.

"Not a fine state to begin with," he reminded her with a cheeky grin.

"Nonsense," she growled, tickling him mercilessly. He gently pried her fingers away, laughing. "I make sure I keep all of my things in excellent condition."

"Charming, Dora, that's what you are."

"I do try," she teased. She bit her bottom lip, and imagined that she could still taste him there. "Don't you dare try and do anything bloody noble, Remus, I swear..."

"I solemnly swear I will try my hardest not to do anything noble, Nymphadora."

"That's all I ask," she mused, smiling up at him. "Do you...have to leave soon?"

"Yes, but we have time."

Tonks twined her fingers with his, studying each little crack in his knuckles, and the slightly pink tinge to his fingertips. She frowned with the building sting behind her eyes, and played with his thumb, pushing it back and forth as though she could prise it off and keep it for herself. Her eyes flashed up to find him watching her with tender amusement. She thought of his breath against her face that night, slow and gentle as they had loved each other until exhausted and breathless, making the most of the time they had left.

The sheets felt heavenly against her bare skin, but she wanted him there with her. The bed already felt cold in the space where he usually lay.

"In case something happens..."

"No," Tonks said suddenly. "No, don't you dare. Nothing will happen to you. Nothing at all, do you understand?"

She pulled him down so that his nose was almost touching hers. The fabric felt so rough in her hands, and his eyes held so much intensity that she had to remember to keep her soul in place. He was looking at her as though she had just discovered the wonders of the universe, and as though she was the only thing he'd ever seen, and as though he would never see her again. The latter worried her immensely. She would see him again. She had to.

"Sweetheart," he breathed. "I'm going to try my hardest."

"I know," she smiled, "you wouldn't dare face me if you break a leg or something."

"Indeed, you would be quite something to behold."

He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and she smiled, holding onto his hand as though it would make him stay.

"I wish you could get back in this bed," she whispered. "I wish it was over."

"Me too," he told her gently, and his eyes held a great deal of longing as he looked at the empty space next to her.

Any other Saturday morning, he would have been curled up with her. They would have stayed in bed until they felt like it, and she could have traced the contours of his face and kissed him awake. With the quilt flat by her side, it seemed to weigh heavier than usual, and but without Remus she felt cold. They had slept in the same bed as often as their schedules had allowed it, either at her flat or at Grimmauld Place. She preferred the latter, as it was more accommodating to two people, but without him present, the dreariness of the room was brought to light. The cobwebbed corners seemed to leer out at her, and the room seemed chilly, as though he heat of his body – now encased in his robes – no longer reached into the space around him.

She knew it wouldn't be long before she got up.

"Do you have time to lie down for a while?" she asked.

He looked longingly to the space next to her and shook his head. "If I lie down I'll never get up."

"You're not that old, Remus."

"You know what I mean," he chuckled.

"You're right. I'd hold you captive until Dumbledore had to come round and prise you from my arms, and that would be extremely embarrassing considering I'm naked. But then, alas, my contract with Scrimgeour would be broken and I wouldn't have to look at his pathetic face anymore."

Remus laughed out loud, and his eyes flickered once again to the empty patch of bed. "I love you."

Tonks grinned. "I love you, too. Too much to see you in bits in St. Mungos, and don't you forget it."

Tonks smiled bravely, but it felt a little forced. He studied her intently, his eyes gentle and tired. She wondered briefly if she had worn him out the night before, and wasn't sure whether to feel proud or abashed. He most certainly needed the rest, but how else could they have spent their last night together?

Not their last night, Tonks reminded herself scornfully; she needed to stop thinking that way.

"Love?" he caught her attention, and she looked up into his sweet eyes. "I'm...scared."

"Oh," she breathed, her eyes filling.

His head hung forwards, and she caught him, gently stroking her hands through his hair and pressing kisses on top of his head. She guided his head down, briefly, to rest on her chest, wrapping a leg over him as best as she could with all of the thick layers and blankets. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes, seeming to revel in the closeness they could share.

"Did I make you scared?" she asked gently.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "I just...this isn't something to be taken lightly...its feral werewolves and it's close to home and..."

"And what?"

"No, I'm doing nothing but worrying you, and I promised I wouldn't..."

"Remus, stop being noble."

"I don't think I'm noble. Not in the slightest."

He lifted his head from her chest and let it hang there for a moment; a heavy weight on his neck. When he raised his eyes to hers, they were bloodshot, and Tonks felt her heart clench as she saw just how much Remus wanted to get back in bed with her and crawl away from the world and its problems. She wanted to take it all away.

"Come here," she implored.

He didn't move, so she sat up, clutching the quilt to her chest. He looked at her. She cupped his face between her palms, and gently brushed his nose with the tip of hers in affection. He cracked the tiniest of smiles.

"I believe in you, Remus," she whispered. "I believe, just like everyone else does, that you're the most wonderful, honest, kind, noble git that ever walked this earth."

"I'm sure that you're intending for me to be flattered by these backhanded compliments," he teased.

His eyes darkened as his gaze flickered to the clock, and Tonks swallowed her fear, knowing what was coming next. "Time to go," he said gently.

He drew her close, a strong hand against the back of her hair, winding in her bed-mussed hair as his mouth covered hers. His lips were gentle and attentive, skimming her mouth as though searching for salvation. His hands roamed along her bare back, pulling her against him, and she drew her arms up around his neck and lost herself – just for a sweet, brief moment – in his kiss. His fringe tickled her skin, and she sighed, skimming her tongue gently along his.

All too soon, he was pulling back. He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes staring down at her own, intent and achingly beautiful.

"My are my world, Dora. My absolute world."

Tonks swallowed her fear that he was departing for good, and he stood, the bed springs creaking.

"I'll see you soon," she promised, wrapping her hands around her knees and curling in on herself. "I...I love you."

He said nothing, but gave a small, reassuring smile.

The door closed behind him and Tonks thought – no, she_ knew_ – that she had never been so cold in her entire life.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**I was quite concerned with getting Emmeline right; I didn't want her to be the bad-guy, or to be the one that everyone hates. In my mind, she has made up her mind that she wants to find love and has fixed upon Remus as the perfect candidate; it's not about stealing him from Tonks. **

**Please leave a review, they brighten up my day!  
**


	21. An Interlude of Longing

**Greetings, lovely readers. A new chapter has arrived. The response for the last chapter has been brilliant, and it's really spurred me on with this one. I have one thing to say to the people that reviews, favourited and stuck with this story; thank you. Thank you so much, because you've given me the confidence in my writing that I didn't have before this story. If just one person stays with this until the end, it will be more than wonderful. Thank you so much, all of you.**

**Note: This was intended to be up several days ago but the site wouldn't allow me to update.  
**

* * *

Chapter Twenty: An Interlude of Longing

"D'you have a wand I can borrow?"

"No. Shut up and keep walking."

The frozen, brittle leaves crunched underfoot as Tonks made her way through the endless brambles, a captured criminal in tow. It had been a simple task; to find the man that had been on the run for three months after setting fire to one of the many muggle houses he had robbed. It had been the first time people had been hurt as a result of his endeavours, and the Ministry had put him high on the priority list for capture. Tonks had been wary, considering what had occurred the last time she had been sent out on a mission alone, but as she walked slowly towards the edge of the restricted forest – in which he had been hiding – she couldn't help but think longingly of the pull of apparation, which was blocked in the muggle nature reserve, to avoid any incidents regarding wizards appearing out of nowhere in front of the muggles that frequented there.

Rodgen – the captured wizard – had been relentless; not in his attempts to escape, but in his inane, repetitive _talking_.

"Look, I haven't done nothing. I dunno why the Ministry's sending your lot after me. Can you let me go, please?"

"Can I _let you go_? What do _you _think?" Tonks snapped, and tightened the bonds around his wrists, tugging ever-so slightly.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," Rodgen protested, and Tonks heard him stumble a little behind her.

The evening was pulling in; the hazy red as the sun set cast a deep glow through the leaves, and Tonks felt her eyes grow tired with the changing light. She had been out searching all day, and had eventually found him squatting in a small cave. He had looked up, taken in her Auror's robes and dashed for an escape, which she had quickly thwarted. The forest had been treacherous and she watched her feet carefully, lest she slip and reveal a weakness to her charge. Still, the graze on her knee where she had crashed into a large, protruding root earlier in the day stung, hot and biting.

"What's your name, then?" Rodgen asked, and Tonks saw his large blonde head in peering towards her out of the corner of her eye.

"My name is of no consequence to you. Now shut up," she hissed through gritted teeth, well aware that she was losing her cool.

Her mind – unbidden - cast back to the night before; she had visited her parents.

Her father had been his usual self, but her mother had barely spoken a word to her all night; this had been particularly unusual owing to the fact that her mother usually took every opportunity that she was given to bade her daughter to _tidy that hair_ or, in respect of recent events – _have you seen much of Remus Lupin lately?_

On another mother's lips it would have been a genuine, curious ask regarding a daughter's welfare and happiness, but Andromeda Tonks meant most thoroughly to say: _I hope you haven't seen that Remus Lupin lately. He's a werewolf you know? And far too old for you._

Of course, none of these comments would dare part from her lips, because in all her stand-offish offence regarding Remus, she would never want to actually appear as though she wanted to offend. She had never known her mother show such distrust to someone so freely; and considering that she knew all too well the trials that discrimination presented to a person, Tonks was frankly surprised at her mother's unwillingness to accept Remus as a part of her life.

But there was Tonks' problem; the thing that had been eating away at her all day and night, for three days now.

Remus _wasn't_ in her life in her literal sense, and was officially a day late in returning from his underground visit. Tonks liked to think of it as a mere visit; the word 'visit' conjured reassuring images of Remus drinking tea and discussing politics around a nice round table where all the werewolves sat in top hats and exclaimed how it was a _frightfully chilly afternoon_.

Her stomach churned with worry. The reality was most likely considerably less pleasant.

And he was a day late. An entire, worry filled day.

"You alright, love?"

Tonks swung around. "Who exactly do you think you're talking to?" she ground out between clenched teeth, her blood boiling. With a quick flick of her wand, she tightened the bonds even further, and saw him squirm uncomfortably. A stab of guilt washed through her, and the sense of unprofessionalism caused her to relinquish the tightness to a more bearable level.

He was tall and lanky, with a disproportionately large head and bugling, watery eyes. His robes spoke of the many days in hiding, and there were several smudges of dirt across his forehead.

She set off again, dragging him behind her.

"I was just askin'," he protested tetchily. "I know Aurors think they're all that but I never thought a girl as nice looking as you would be such a..."

Rodgen seemed to have noticed the tension in her jaw and paused, obviously weighing up what he would risk by finishing the sentence with how much he wanted to get at her. Tonks smirked as his comment died off in a muttered trail, feeling a small sense of victory and she strode faster. The edge of the forest couldn't come quick enough; she would be able to apparate Rodgen back to the ministry where he could be taken out of her hands.

"So...how long you been doing this job?" he asked.

Tonks said nothing.

"D'you like it?"

"Be quiet and walk."

Rodgen gave a huge sigh and tried a different approach. "Look, I really haven't done anything wrong. Y'see, I was just doing a favour for a mate and then them muggles...well, I mean, maybe the favour wasn't too good, I'll admit that, but I promised I'd get him some stuff. And when I promise a mate, I don't let him down, see. And muggles, well they don't miss stuff, do they? Go around bloody blindfolded half of their lives. But they had an open fire, see, and a load of stuff fell into it in a little scuffle, and, well the whole thing just went up in flames, didn't I? Weren't my fault, at all, see? Muggles shouldn't have been fighting back. I told them I'd leave well alone, if they just kept quiet."

"Well, I'm guessing they didn't, because two adult muggles and a child were burnt down in their own house because of you. And you think you did nothing wrong?"

"Well, I didn't. Just doing a favour for a mate. In fact, you can go after him if you want. His name's Fletcher."

Tonks winced. "I'll be sure to notify the ministry," she tried, flailing for a tact that would result in no suspicion regarding Mundungus.

"He's the one to blame," Rodgen continued eagerly.

"You're going to Azkaban, Rodgen. For a long time. Nothing you can say is going to change that."

Tonks felt the wind knocked out of her and struggled to keep a grip on her wand. She felt her back connect harshly with the rough bark of the tree and gasped, her head smashing back into the merciless, sharp indentations. Rodgen's breath was unpleasantly hot on her face, his eyes bulging horridly a few inches from her own. "I can't go there. I can't."

Tonks' eyes widened in horror as she felt his hands slip low down her back, grazing the top of her bottom. She let the anger and indignation bring her knee up, catching his lower stomach hard and he doubled over, releasing her as he clutched his stomach in pain. Before she knew it, she had aimed her wand and sent him flying back a few feet, but it wasn't enough, and she was doing it again and again and again, the lingering feel of his hands on her spurring her on.

Eventually, she looked down and saw him cowering on the floor, shame flooding her. Her breath came in sharp bites, and the torment of the past few days suddenly catching up with her on the endless marathon she seemed to be running.

"Get up," she bit out, and he scrambled to his feet, seemingly unscathed. "Now, walk!"

Rodgen stared at her for a moment through helpless, lost, fearful eyes, and then scrambled to his feet, his legs trembling. Tonks repaired the bonds that he had broken through and walked with the scruff of his robes held tightly in her clenched fist.

Tonks seethed for the rest of the walk, and when they finally arrived at the edge of the forest, she gripped Rodgen's elbow firmly and apparated them.

The Aurors were on hand to take Rodgen in to questioning, briefly asking Tonks if there had been any problems. Tonks reassured them that there hadn't and he was taken away. As they dragged him, he began to scream, the reality of what he faced setting in, and he kept glancing back at Tonks in a most unpleasant manner, his eyes bulging impossibly far, and his mouth open and spluttering in terror.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. "Everything alright?" Kingsley's voice was deep and soothing in her ear, and she nodded, smiling up at his kind face.

Tonks couldn't help herself; "Listen, have you heard from-?"

"Tonks," he warned, his voice low. "Not here. You know better than that."

"Sorry," she sighed. "It's just really messing me up. I thought I was going stir-crazy today."

Kingsley considered her for a moment. "I think," he said slowly, "that if there was the possibility of...danger...then there's no better man to handle it than the one we've got."

Tonks smiled a little at his cryptic attempt to reassure, but got the point regardless; Remus could deal with this, which meant she should be able to too.

"Thanks," she smiled. "You're the only voice around here that's not screaming in hysteria."

As though to prove her point, somewhere in a distant corridor, someone started screaming in hysteria. Tonks giggled, and Kingsley gave a low chuckle. "Well, it would appear that Rodgen regrets his little excursion in South London."

"That reminds me," Tonks muttered, "he said something about Mundungus. The whole thing was a favour to him, and the fire was just an accident. But nonetheless, he's going to get a good few years for the robberies and the breach of secrecy. But honestly, I don't think he's the type to burn a three muggles alive for no reason. Annoying, _yes_, but evil...I'm not so sure."

"I think he may well get more than he deserves, Tonks," Kingsley told her darkly, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "The Ministry is so desperate to look like they're doing something, that they'll feed a story like this to the Prophet and run with it as long as they can. Anyway, let's get back to work. I do believe I saw a rather beautiful pile of paperwork waiting patiently for your return."

Kingsley gave her a last smile and wandered back to his desk. Tonks sighed.

It would prove to be a very long day indeed.

* * *

The night was quiet as he slipped into the bed beside her; she felt it rather than saw it, because the night and the state of her tired eyes didn't lend themselves to visual pursuits. Tonks hummed in appreciation and scooted closer, not entirely familiar with the bed she was encased in. He pressed himself against her back and dropped a sweet kiss on her shoulder. She revelled in the warmth of his lips through the thick fabric of her pyjamas, and finally spoke.

"I've been waiting for you," she complained.

"Sorry," he replied hoarsely, and tightened his arm around her waist.

But then, through the disconcerting fog of sleep, she became increasingly aware that the man behind her, curled around her in the bed wasn't Remus at all; his arms were different, and the way he breathed against the back of her neck sent her body spiralling into the worst kind of fear; the fear you can only feel alone in bed, helpless and half asleep, when something so wrong and so awful is happening, and you can't wake up.

"Tonks?"

"Get away!" she struggled, her voice breaking desperately as her heavy limbs flailed in the bed.

"Tonks!"

The voice was different; warmer and softer, and it didn't fill her with dread. She felt her mind being dragged through a tunnel, back and forth and then up into a soft, cool place. She opened her eyes with a gasp and squinted in the darkness.

Molly Weasley was perched on the edge of her bed, her red hair piled in an unruly knot on top of her round face. Her pink house coat was draped over her shoulders, and Tonks relaxed as she watched the woman rearrange the tangled mess of the quilt and drape it back over Tonks, who was feeling decidedly chilly as she sweat-dampened body caught the cool winter drafts.

"Sorry, Molly," Tonks croaked. "Did I wake you?"

"Hmm?" Molly asked vaguely. "No, no, dear. Well, perhaps a little. But it's no bother."

"Sorry," she muttered again. "I'll try to keep it down."

Molly looked as though she were about to laugh. "My dear, we can't exactly control when we have nightmares, now can we? Think nothing of it; I've enough children to know when someone so much as sneezes in my house."

Tonks smiled up at the maternal witch. Molly smiled back and reached for something on the bedside table. Tonks sat up against the headboard and gratefully accepted the glass of water.

It had been a long, stressful meeting at Headquarters earlier that night. Her day hunting and escorting Rodgen had thoroughly exhausted her, and upon arrival at Grimmauld Place she had found Kingsley hovering in the hallway outside. They had to wait there until Professor Dumbledore had finished giving his report, as any contact with their leader would have resulted in the Ministry being alerted. They had lingered in silence, wary of Mrs Black's portrait, only to be greeted by the kitchen door opening, and the sound of roaring argument. Sirius had stormed up the stairs moments later, profanities spilling from his mouth like wildfire, and he had stalked past everyone and up the stairs, waking his mother's portrait most thoroughly and leaving Tonks and Kingsley to silence the screams.

Tonks hadn't had chance to go after Sirius and ask what had upset him so, because she and Kingsley had been called down after the Professor's departure. But it didn't take her long to sense the atmosphere in the room; three sets of eyes had turned worriedly to glance in her direction; Molly, Arthur and Mad-Eye. Even the latter had the nerve to look concerned, as though she would drop to the floor screaming and pounding her fists on the floor if anyone reminded her that Remus existed.

Molly had offered her a bed for the night at the Burrow shortly after. She knew what had been said in the meeting; knew that Dumbledore had told them to sit tight and let Remus figure out how to get back on his own, because it was written all over them. Molly had confirmed it reluctantly over dinner, and Tonks understood exactly why Sirius had stormed upstairs to rage.

The other members of the Order didn't know Remus well enough to see the softness behind his shell of impassive smiles and polite words. If they had seen the look in his eyes the morning that he had left; the fear and apprehension and self-doubt...they would be screaming and raging with Remus and shaking Dumbledore by the scruff of the robes to learn the location of his mission so they could damn-well get him out of there.

She had considered the likelihood of finding him; weighed up all the chances and the odds, pushed aside all of her feelings of disloyalty to the Order and seriously thought about trying to find him; trying to save him. All she could find were hapless plans with no foundation.

Molly smiled gently at her, the usual flush of her cheeks absent in the dim moonlight.

"Are you worried about Remus, dear?"

Tonks nodded, drawing her knees up towards her chest. "The waiting is the worst part. And the lack of communication. I can never be sure that he's safe. He can't write and tell me that everything's alright. And now, he's late. He promised that he'd be back. He promised. And I _know_ that he would never break a promise like that."

"I'm sure he wouldn't, dear. But I don't think that we should be jumping to conclusions. So many things, so many little complications could be keeping him there. You know that he's a thorough man, and he'll be getting this job done to the best of his abilities."

"I know," Tonks nodded. "And I like to think that I can be strong for him, Molly, I really do. But I just don't know anymore. What if he doesn't come back? What if that was it? The last goodbye; the last time I'll ever see him?"

Tonks pressed the flat of her palms to her wet, sore eyes. Her voice cracked as finally the day caught up with her, and her breaths came in huge gasps. The whole loss; the aching hole that he had ripped from her by leaving and not coming back seemed to gape wide and tauntingly, and she saw exactly what would happen if he didn't come back. It would be like this; the missing him and the waiting and the not knowing if he was dead or hurt.

Molly rubbed her shoulder in gentle circles, her lips pursed and her eyebrows drawn together. "Oh, my dear," she breathed in deep sympathy. "You know...during the last war, Arthur was sent on trips all over the country to gather information about the use of the imperious curse on muggles. It was less than week most often, but I had two babies to look after and the rest of the children weren't exactly grown up. And I would sit there and convince myself that something had happened to him. Every time he went; and he went a lot in those days, I would be so worried that I couldn't breathe. That's why he bought me the clock downstairs, dear. He charmed it himself; he said _Molly, my love, seeing as you're always so sure I'm in absolute mortal peril, I thought you should have something trustworthy to tell you when you're being ridiculous._ He put everyone's faces on the clock and hung it up on the wall, but when I went downstairs that next morning, all of our faces were stuck on mortal peril. I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life."

Tonks sniffed, listening to the witch. "My point is," Molly continued, "that none of us are safe. And whether we're here or far away; away from everyone we love, we'll stand together."

"Yes," Tonks agreed, and felt slightly cheered. "I just don't know what I'd do without him, Molly, I really don't. I didn't go looking for this. I didn't know he'd do this to me."

"Love hits us unexpectedly," Molly agreed. "It wouldn't be love if we planned it, dear."

"I'd been so used to the idea of love being this silly notion," Tonks confessed. "I wasn't prepared at all for how it could make you feel. Like you're weak and strong at the same time. I cry a lot more now."

"When I fell in love with Arthur, I would cry almost every week. He didn't notice me at first, you know? Well, of course, I wouldn't stand for that and I strode up to him one day in the Common Room and I said; _Arthur Weasley, I'll have no more of this. You'll take me out for a date in Hogsmeade like the gentleman you ought to be._"

Tonks laughed out loud, finding it easy to imagine the scene Molly laid out before her.

"And what did he say?" Tonks asked.

"Oh," Molly batted a hand. "Well, he spluttered around for a while, but we went for the date the next weekend and he was a little more talkative, so it all turned out just fine."

Tonks giggled, sniffed, and wiped her eyes.

Molly grasped the younger witches hand in her own, and looked directly at her as she spoke;

"I've never seen Remus as happy as he has been of late. I know that it might be difficult for you to see, because you didn't know him before he met you. But there was something missing in his eyes when he smiled, and I saw you re-ignite it from the moment you joined the Order. He needs someone like you in his life. He deserves you, and you deserve him. If there's one thing I've learnt through these wars, it's that love is our final weapon; the reason that we keep fighting. If none of us loved, then we would have given up a long time ago."

Tonks nodded, feeling tears come to the surface again. She held them back and gave molly a watery smile as the witch pressed a warm kiss to her forehead, stroked her hair back from her face and urged her to settle back into the pillows. Molly pulled the blankets up around her, tucked her in and heaved herself up with a great yawn.

"Goodnight, dear Tonks."

Tonks' own goodnight was a barely audible mutter, lost as she was in what Molly had just told her.

She drifted back to sleep, but dreamt again of Remus. This time, he was lying in a pool of his own blood, werewolves sniffing around him rabidly. She woke with a start, hoping that she hadn't woken her hosts again and sat up in the bed. The room was small and cramped, but cosy and warm at the same time. The wind howled outside, but the bedclothes itched at her skin and her legs ached uncomfortably, so she got up and paced for a while.

Eventually, she settled on a rickety old wooden chair, staring out of the window. She watched the trees tilt dangerously on their roots in the gusts, and shivered involuntarily at the draft that found its way through the window pane.

The clock read half past one, and Tonks was sure that if Remus had a hand on the infamous Weasley clock, it would most definately be pointing to _Mortal Peril_.

* * *

The wind had picked up its pace dramatically since she had been perched in the chair and Tonks jerked out of her light doze as the sound of the gate clattering rhythmically on its wooden frame cut through her rest. The gust howled, and for a moment Tonks considered getting back into bed, pulling the sheets up over her head and trying to ignore the racket. Remus wasn't going to come back in the middle of the night, and it would do her no good to wake in a wooden chair with aching shoulders.

Just as the thought had crossed her mind, something moved.

She peered, trying to make out the dark movement in the distance. Someone was moving across the field wearily, dragging their feet, a rucksack slung over their wide shoulder...

Remus.

The chair fell to the floor with a crash as she shot for the door, wrenching it open and making a bloody great racket as it hit the wall. She didn't care; she flung herself towards the staircase, feeling her way in the dark. Her footsteps were loud and carried through the house, and she heard the distant sounds of movement in Molly and Arthur's room, but there was no room in her veins for care as she ran on pure excitement, worry and adrenaline and scrambled across the kitchen towards the back door.

The force of the wind struck her, and her bare feet sunk in the mud. She saw him pause for a moment in his tracks, and she sped up, the hem of her pyjamas heavy and wet.

"Merlin, Remus," she breathed as she finally reached him, colliding with such force that it set him back a pace or two with a quiet grunt.

She felt him set something on the ground, and then his arms were tight around her in return, squeezing her with all he had, his muscles trembling with the cold beneath his thin robes. She kissed any part of him she could reach, turning her head to be engulfed in the feel of him there with her; safe and whole and in her arms.

"You have no idea," she croaked, her voice beginning to fail her, "no idea at all how worried I've been."

"I'm sorry," he replied, so quietly she could barely hear, his voice carried off by the wind.

"I thought you were dead." Her breath hitched desperately in her chest, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"I'm alright," he said.

Remus seemed to pause for a moment, and then chuckled. With a tired little noise of exertion, he bent down, wrapped her securely in his arms and hoisted her bare feet from the wet confines of the mud. "You'll be the death of me, Dora. Running around in the mud with no shoes on, what am I going to do with you?"

Tonks pulled back to look at his face. He looked pale and drawn, dark circles shadowing his eyes, signalling the lack of sleep he had gotten during his time away. He looked mercifully unscathed, however, and she relaxed a little.

"Put me down," she said suddenly, feeling his arms falter a little with the weight of her teamed with his exhaustion. "You're too tired."

"And lose you in the mud?" he replied with a weak but genuine grin. "Never."

"Remus..."

"Oh, don't be such a _stick in the mud_," he growled low in her ear, and she laughed incredulously.

"Cheesy git."

Perhaps it had been alright; perhaps the damaged Remus she had expected to return was just a figment of her worried imagination. He certainly seemed okay, if severely exhausted, and she gave only a weak and joking protest as he began to carry her over to the Burrow, her mud-caked feet a good distance from the ground.

When they finally got inside, Molly was bustling about the stove in her housecoat, setting the kettle to boil. Remus paused when he saw her and gently set Tonks back down on her feet, throwing a smile towards the older witch. Molly looked at them with slightly watery eyes and set back to making the tea.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tonks muttered. "I didn't mean to wake you again, Molly."

"Well, we can't have Remus return with an empty stomach, now can we?" Arthur's voice came from the kitchen table, and Tonks swung around in surprise, her guilt at having woken the couple returning double fold. Arthur lowered his voice and muttered something that sounded like: "Molly would insist on cooking a feat at half past five in the morning."

"Oh, I don't expect anything..." Remus tried to protest, keeping an arm around Tonks' back.

Now that the initial rush of energy generated by their departure had seemingly worn off, Remus was visibly sagging under the weight of his own body.

"Nonsense, dear," Molly reassured him with a smile. "It's nothing, and you look so weary. Sit down, dear; take the weight off your feet."

Remus thanked her quietly and sat heavily in a wooden kitchen chair. Tonks sat beside him, and for a brief moment saw him exchange a significant look with Arthur. But then it was gone, and Remus was resting his chin on his bridged hands and sighing deeply with fatigue.

"How did it go, Remus?" Arthur asked quietly.

"It was...enlightening," Remus replied with a small smile. "I certainly caused quite a stir."

Tonks laughed, and it came out a little shaky and nervous. "But, at least you tried," reassured him. "It was always going to be hit and miss with werewolves, wasn't it? You did well, Remus, I'm just glad to have you home...safe."

"Indeed," Molly said warmly, placing a mug of hot tea and a large slice of butter cake in front of him. "There's soup heating on the stove."

All eyes seemed to be turned to the returned wizard, waiting for something; an admission of an injury that he had been hiding or a confession of some mistreatment he suffered at the hands of the feral werewolves. As though he would announce that he had something to tell them, stand up and start bleeding profusely from the chest.

"Did you find anyone to bring to our cause, Remus?" Arthur asked, sipping his own tea.

"A few displayed interest," Remus nodded, his voice quiet, and he hesitated, his eyes flickering towards Tonks. "In time I can do a lot more."

Tonks could have sworn she felt her heart stop. The room was suddenly unbearable warm, and she clenched her fists under the table, in a fierce battle with the tears threatening to spill over. Remus took one look at her face and softened, his face compassionate and full of regret. He went to say something, but Molly got there first.

"Surely not, Remus," Molly said in hushed tones. "You had enough trouble getting back this time."

"I didn't want to raise alarm," Remus said calmly, and blinked rapidly at the table. "But I think I could persuade some of them over to us, I really do. They were suspicious of me, but I think I gained some trust. I didn't want to leave immediately and ruin our chances."

He paused for a moment. "They're moving soon, to higher ground for the spring, but they say they should be back by summer. When they return...I can join them again, and by Christmas hopefully some will have joined our cause."

"You-?" Tonks couldn't form her words.

"Nothing will change," he said quietly, not looking at her still, taking a deep sip of tea.

"You can't go," Tonks said simply. "Remus, you were in enough danger this time."

"The danger was more as a stranger," Remus replied rationally. "Now I'm familiar with some of them, it will be easier to integrate myself."

"They believed you?" Molly whispered incredulously.

"Yes. Most have been underground for several years with little contact to the surrounding world. No one recognised me, luckily."

"But, Remus, surely it's only a matter of time until Greyback..."

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," he said quietly.

Tonks was at a loss; she couldn't seem to make the screaming in her head translate into rational words in her mouth, so she settled for simply staring at him, her jaw hanging slightly, as she comprehended what he was telling her; he would be going away in the summer, to live with the feral werewolves. Her Remus, who had caused her so much pain by being away for four days, was going to spend possibly months trying to recruit new members.

Away from her.

"Sirius told me you were staying here," he continued, locking eyes with her at last. "I thought I'd best come here straight away, rather than worry you more."

"I...yes," was all she could manage, and looked down at her hands clasped in her lap.

The void was already beginning to form; she could feel the hole in her heart yawn and stretch its muscles, readying itself for the onslaught of cold that would fill her heart at his absence. Suddenly the summer seemed so mercifully far away, yet so unbearably close at the same time. She wished that she hadn't woken Molly and Arthur so that she and Remus could discuss the issue properly together. And she could scream and rage at him all she wanted, kiss him until he couldn't breathe and it would somehow make him stay.

"Well," Arthur said, with a yawn that didn't quite seem genuine. "I think it's time to go back to bed, don't you? I have work in a few hours. You too, Tonks. Wouldn't want to be asleep on the job. Lots of...exciting stuff happening."

"Yes," Tonks heard herself reply vaguely, and Arthur gave her a quick, worried smile before he hoisted himself to his feet.

Molly remained sitting, seemingly oblivious to the exit cue her husband had created, and stared into the bottom of her teacup. "Molly, dear," Arthur said pointedly, and Molly jolted out of her stupor.

"Oh," she realised, and little flustered. "Yes, of course. Get some sleep, dears. Remus, you're welcome to stay. No doubt you will...so, make yourself at home. And don't mind the ghoul, dear, he's harmless. Goodnight...don't forget your soup."

And with that Arthur gently led Molly back up the stairs by her elbow, both looking slightly comical in their flannel pyjamas and slippers. Tonks and Remus sat in silence and listened to the pair bicker affectionately as the ascended the creaking wooden steps. Tonks gave a nervous little laugh and looked anywhere but at Remus. She pulled a leg underneath herself, but let it drop back down to the floor when she realised that mud still clung to her feet, ankles and pyjamas. It seemed almost silly now that she had run through the field to meet him; she felt such a fool.

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Remus spoke up. "Dora..."

"What?" she asked, and it came out a little harsh. She winced. "Sorry."

"Can we...can we not talk about this tonight? And just sleep? Please?"

Tonks raised her eyes and met his; the whites were bloodshot, and his eyelids visibly drooping, and she wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all for those days.

"Oh," she breathed. "Of course we can. I'm sorry; I'm being so stupid."

He ate his soup in silence, cleaning the bowl thoroughly and setting it on the side. Tonks watched him with attentive eyes.

When they had ascended the rickety old stairs onto the first landing, he paused outside the open door to the guest bedroom and gently tugged her into his arms. She let out a sigh of relief and let the tension that she didn't know she had been carrying ease like a weight lifted from her back. He buried his face in her hair, and inhaled deeply; drawing her into him closer and she felt each expansion of his chest as he breathed; miraculously alive and hers.

"It's going to be like this, isn't it?" she asked quietly. "The waiting. The not knowing if you're safe."

"Yes," he confirmed. "You see, this is what I meant all those months ago when I told you it wouldn't be simple...can you handle that?"

"I said I could," she replied. "And I will. So long as we can be together, I can handle it. This is all I want Remus; you. And whether you're here or miles away...well, it doesn't change anything. I lov-"

He didn't give her chance to finish, gently easing her against the doorframe and covering her mouth with his, stealing what she had been about to say for his own. The tension in his body became apparent as her hands roamed over his shoulders and down his back. His lips soothed, kissed, pressed and pulled until all that had happened over the last few days didn't seem to matter anymore, and Tonks smiled against his mouth, the worries that she had been so engulfed in suddenly seeming silly.

"I missed you," he said simply.

"I noticed," she smiled, and recaptured his lips with hers, pulling a soft moan from his throat.

His hair didn't feel as soft as usual, tangled by the wind, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore.

They crashed into the foot of the bed shortly after, tumbling onto the creaky old mattress with stifled giggles, and he sat up against the head of the bed, gesturing to her. She smiled and curled up to him gratefully; kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair back. It soothed her, and she realised how tired she was too. But still, the promise of a new day hung close and daunting, and she found herself extremely reluctant to give up what could be a long, untroubled sleep to go in to work. Tonks sighed, and leant up for another kiss.

He deepened it quickly, and pushed her down gently against the mattress. She sighed and curled her fingers into his thick hair.

"Don't go away again," the words had left her mouth – quiet and breathy – before she could stop them, and Remus paused.

She could feel his eyes studying her face, and focused her attention somewhere beyond his. The tension hung in the room, and what she had been too loathe to say in the kitchen bubbled up to the surface. He was tired, but she needed to know...

"It was awful, Dora."

Her eyes snapped quickly to his; cloudy and blue and open to her completely. The weight on his shoulders seemed to come down and break over hers in a crash of ice, and her heart filled with regret, sadness, longing, but above all...helplessness. She could do nothing for him; only he could truly know the experience with the werewolves.

It wasn't the time to ask him to stay, or make him feel guilty, she realised.

He needed her, and she needed him; tonight, safe, warm.

She gripped his face firmly in her hands, and dragged his eyes level with her own. He hovered above her on his elbows. "You're home now, Remus," she told him firmly; reverently. Her voice echoed through the room, invasive after the calm, quiet words spoken previously. "You're safe and I'm not letting you go again, understand? Merlin knows you put me through enough these past few days; I almost went crazy.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't apologise."

He gave her a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and settled his head back on the soft warmth of their shared pillow. She curled herself in the little patch of space that the tiny bed offered, her head in the curve of his neck. The past few days – the anguish and worry – seemed to melt away, and it all became so ridiculous, because they were both together now and that was all that mattered.

"I thought about you a lot," he told her gently, his voice only just reaching her ears.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead,

"I've had the most awful day too," Tonks confessed. "I thought it would never end."

"I thought about your face to get me through it," he whispered, and rolled onto his side to look her directly in the eyes. She curled her hands under her chin and studied every inch of his face as he spoke. "I would dream about you. Hear your voice in the night. I missed you so much; every part of me ached for you."

Tonks rested a hand on his cheek and choked back the tears. "It was agony, Remus," she said.

"I'm sorry I stayed longer than I said I would," he said, resting his forehead gently against hers. "I felt I had to."

"Shush, it doesn't matter anymore."

"Tell me about your day; let me make it better."

"You already have," she smiled.

He cupped the back of her head and drew her in for a kiss. His mouth tasted a little acrid, but she didn't mind. He smelt of campfire smoke and dirt, but again it was of no consequence to her, because the overwhelming feeling of having him so close that she could feel the warmth of him diffuse into her seemed to erase all of the doubts and worries.

She felt the heavy weight of the mud at the bottom of her pyjamas and kicked them off. He smiled down at her fondly, drawing his wand out and cleaning her feet with a quick spell. Tonks sighed in relief and stretched her toes. He shed his top robes and they clambered under the covers together. Tonks buried her face in the warmth of his jumper, sleep suddenly alluring rather than threatening.

"I'm so glad to be home," he whispered.

"I'm glad you're home," she responded. "Remus, I'm not right without you. And I'm not ashamed to say it."

He eased her onto her back, his thumb gently tracing circles on her knee. He kissed her nose affectionately and rubbed it gently with his own.

The morning would no doubt come quicker than they liked, but they would stay up for the entire night talking in soft voices, fighting sleep to stay in each other's presence. He touched her; kissed her, held her closely gathered up in his arms until she was surrounded by the idea that nothing could touch them. The wind howled outside, but the warmth of the Burrow protected them, and Remus forgot about werewolves, and Tonks forgot about petty criminals. She recounted her day to him, her head pillowed on his chest as he breathed steadily against her, and he told her about his too.

The hush protected them, and they loved.

It was a night that Tonks would look back on with reverence and sadness. It was a night for which she would come to yearn.

For after that night; after that quiet, peaceful night, everything began to go wrong.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**There we have it; please leave a review!**


	22. Peace and War

**Another chapter, I don't know where the time has gone, but I realise that it's been too long since I last updated. To all those who have stuck around, thank you! Also, a massive thank you to LanderSova on deviantART, for creating such a brilliant piece of work based around this fic. I've been finding it hard to write recently, probably because we're coming up to the most difficult part of the plot, but I hope that this chapter lives up to what you want, and captures the characters. Also, huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two: Peace and War

February passed with little consequence. The weather grew a little warmer, and the first buds of spring flowers began to poke their heads through the damp soil. Moments when Tonks and Remus could work around the Order and the Ministry to see each other became a little too few and far between, but they found time to sleep in the same bed and catch up with sleepy words and, occasionally, some love making.

It bothered Tonks that so early in their relationship they were essentially being forced to slow down. It felt a little too much like an old relationship that had somewhat fizzled out, except the lack in time spent together was more due to hectic schedules than a decline in affection or passion, and when they did come together with a reasonable degree of energy, they wasted no time in showing the other how dearly they had been missed.

Tonks lit a tiny flame on the end of her wand and set the three candles alight. The cake had been her own concoction; a triumph as far as she was concerned. She knew that Remus preferred gifts of love rather than material possessions, and as she looked upon the wonky icing and cream filling that was spilling forth from the cakes interior, she thought that love would most certainly need to redeem her baking skills.

She straightened the hem of her dress and looked down upon her sun-neglected legs. It seemed like so long since she had been able to wear something other than tight denim or thick pyjama bottoms. Indeed, when she had pulled the dress from her wardrobe she had had to dust the bloody thing before wearing it.

There was a knock on the door, and Tonks swore loudly as she stubbed her toe on the leg of the table. She dimmed the lights so that the candles atop the cake set the room alight with a warm glow.

She cleared her throat and asked loudly. "Who is it?"

"It's Remus Lupin, werewolf; spent a great amount of time at a cottage in the country getting to know you exceedingly well...you have a penchant for running in the mud without shoes on like a garden gnome-"

He didn't have time to finish, because she had flung the door open and planted herself firmly in his arms. She had a glimpse of his tired but grinning face before she kissed him firmly. He sighed against her mouth and ran his hands up her back; it had been at least a week since they had been able to share a moment like this, and she was burning for him.

In fact, the whole flat was filled with the scent of her burning...

He pulled away and asked; "Dora...is something on fire...oh-?"

His eyes connected with the cake on the kitchen table, and for a moment his expression was unreadable.

Tonks jumped backwards and hurried back to the cake. She opened her arms in presentation. "Happy Birthday!"

Remus stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes locked on her face. When he finally did look away, it was to scan over the haphazard cake, and then survey the kitchen filled with discarded bowls of cake batter and oven trays that had been tipped over in frustration. Then his eyes fell back on her, and his mouth opened slightly.

"I...thank you."

"You're welcome! You didn't think I'd forget did you? Sirius told me when it was, seeing as you're so bloody stubborn."

He gave her a weak smile.

"Come on, Remus, before I set the whole building alight! And make a wish."

Remus set down his briefcase on the side and walked unsurely to the cake, leaning down and with a single breath he extinguished the three candles. Tonks applauded, and his gaze returned to hers through the whirling spirals of smoke.

But then, quite suddenly, the candles were once again burning.

Tonks laughed jovially.

"Oh..." Remus managed, looking thoroughly surprised.

"Aren't they brilliant?" Tonks enthused with delight, watching as Remus' brow furrowed in confusion. "I found them in a muggle joke shop! They light themselves back up! Without magic!"

Remus smiled and tried again, blowing out the little buds of fire until there was darkness. One of the candles gave a flicker, and returned with a renewed burn. Tonks giggled and Remus raised a bored eyebrow, so she took the candles carefully from the cake and dropped them into the sink, submerging them in water.

When she turned around, he was standing by the cake, his stance awkward and unsure.

"So how old are you?" Tonks asked teasingly, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

It didn't; his entire body seemed to stiffen. Tonks swallowed nervously and reached for a knife to cut the cake, her face flushed. She could feel Remus' eyes on her as she slid the blunt knife into the soft body of the cake. It separated and looked rather sad and dejected; Tonks thought briefly that she knew how it felt.

"Y-you made this?" he asked, in a quiet voice.

"Yes, I did," she smiled, trying to appear jovial.

"Thank you."

He strode around the table to take the knife from her hands and set it down on the table, pulling her up into his warm arms. He planted a grateful kiss on the plump swell of her lips and repeated the pattern along her cheek, his eyelashes sweeping softly against her temple. Tonks sighed and smiled in relief as she felt his hands drift lazily along the soft jersey fabric of her dress.

He pulled back. "Thank you, love," he reiterated, sounding a great deal more sincere.

"Well, you deserve it," she told him, her face flushed.

Remus said nothing. He held her hand in his for a while, stroking over the skin with his thumb, surveying their joined fingers with a contemplative frown marring his face. Tonks watched, hesitant to break the moment lest something slip and he would shrink back into himself, wary and embarrassed. Tonight was one of those nights; one of those awful nights when she could see the self-loathing in his eyes; taste the bitter air that hung around him, brewing up deep inside his stomach. It filled the room and set it alight with tension.

"So," she asked, breaking the silence, "what did you do today?"

Remus let go of her hand and walked back around to sit at the table. He picked up where she had left off and pushed the knife into the cake. "I went to see Jasper for a little while. And Dumbledore, incidentally."

Tonks swallowed the dry lump in her throat. "Oh."

He slid the plate across the table in offering. The cake which sat atop of it looked rather unappealing; its buttercream filling bleeding out from the middle like it were a wounded soldier, lying in a pool of its own chocolate fudge guts. Tonks frowned down at it in resentment, but picked it up anyway.

Remus was very kind about her attempts; he appeased her in a way that she had become extremely familiar with, and cupped her chin gently between his fingers as he leant in to give her a sweet, honest, cake-flavoured kiss of thanks. It cheered Tonks up considerably.

She cleared away the plates, and when she returned, he was sitting with his hands clasped in front of him, staring intently at the table.

Tonks was about to say something, but he spoke first.

"Dumbledore agrees that I will eventually have to return to the mountains and gather more information...recruit some of them...I can do it, Dora. I know I can."

Tonks blinked hard. "We hadn't spoken about it," she admitted. "So I thought you'd changed your mind. Hoped; _hoped_ you'd changed your mind."

"I know."

"So this is it, isn't it? I'm going to have to say it?" she said, her hands trembling slightly. He seemed to wait with baited breath, the tension between the electric and the silence loaded with all of the possibilities; all of the futures. "Please, don't go."

"Don't do this," he pleaded quietly.

"You're not exactly leaving me any choice, Remus," she ground out between clenched teeth. "Do you think I enjoy this? I know that you need to go, I know that it's for the Order, and that this all part of the War; I know all of that. Do you think I _want_ to say these things? To feel like a traitor?"

"You don't have to say anything," he pointed out gently.

Tonks felt anger flare deep inside her stomach. "What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't put up a fight?" she asked indignantly. "You think I'm going to just let you walk into this, don't you?"

Remus sighed. "I had hoped that you would cooperate," he admitted. "But I suspected strongly that that wouldn't be the case."

"Well, you suspected right," Tonks bit out, her lips pursed.

The majority of the cake still sat between them, and Tonks gazed at it morosely. It was his birthday, and they were fighting.

"I love you," she whispered, not meeting his gaze. "That's why I can't let you go."

"I know," he replied gently, and reached to take her hand. She let him, revelling in the rough warm of his fingers around hers.

Quite suddenly, he rose from his chair and walked around to where she sat in hers. Her shoulders were slumped in dejection, and she felt the bitter waves of foreboding wash through her veins; something would happen to them. Something bad. They would not come from this unscathed.

Remus knelt down before her, his face level with hers, and drew her in for a kiss. It was gentle and reverent, and she could feel the skim and flutter of his soft eyelashes as he watched her face. Tonks let her eyes fall shut and sighed into the kiss; it felt as though nothing were wrong, as though it were a simple kiss like they always shared. But time hung over them like an evil presence; every second ticking away towards the end. He would go, and she would never see him again. She knew it.

He pulled away, his eyes alight with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, Dora, I'll try not to return with feral tendencies."

"What-"

"I'll try to remain civilised and...washed."

Tonks couldn't help it; she let out a light giggle. It chased away a little of the tension.

"And, I won't come back biting," he promised with a lilting laugh on his voice. He lowered his lips to her neck, pulling a giggle from her with warm, biting kisses.

"Is that a promise?" she asked breathlessly, winding her hands.

"Well," he smirked against the skin of her throat; she felt the tight, warm brush of his teeth. "We'll just have to see how things go, won't we?"

"Hmm," she agreed vaguely, and her eyes flickered briefly to the cake battered kitchen that was slowly emerging over the crown of Remus' head.

The clean-up operation could wait, she reasoned, and pulled his mouth up to hers. His lips skimmed hers gently, and she felt that ever-increasing familiarity of being lost within him after days apart. It was like the feeling of making up; a short period of tension and worry that melted away into nothing but bliss at their eventual reunion. It was the same gripped swell in her stomach; the one that curled her toes and made her cling to him as though an ocean endeavoured to set her adrift.

He pulled her to her feet and together they walked to the bedroom, stopping every now and then for a lingering kiss. This was becoming routine; as though anything said before making love was a mere pleasantry, because neither could concentrate until they had been showed enthusiastically just how much they had been longed for.

Neither stopped for ceremony, and soon she was pushing him back into the cushions, free of restrictive clothes. He received her well; his hands enthusiastic in their endeavours to make up for lost time. His fingers gently traced up her spine and she straddled him, the feel of him safe and familiar beneath her. His lips curved up against the skin of her throat, the muscles beneath her hands tensed as he lifted himself up to get a better reach.

He seemed restless beneath her, and the room swung around as he flipped her to lie beneath him. His breath skimmed her collarbone, and she threw her head back, wanton and desperate, her mouth open in a silent scream as they came together after their time apart.

Something about the lovemaking began to perturb her, and she became increasingly aware of the desperate grip of his fingers on her shoulders. The way his lips traced the curves of her face too gently. She needed to see his eyes; to see something in them that would tell her that it was alright, but his gaze kept darting away from hers.

"Remus?" she breathed, and he paused in his actions to take a deep, shuddering breath. She rubbed her nose against the softness of his hair. "Alright?"

"Yes," he muttered, and gave a soft gasp as she folded her legs around him, their union deeper and more enticing.

"Whatever it is, let me make it better," Tonks muttered against the skin of his throat.

Remus said nothing and carried on, the warm gusts of air from his deep breaths flushing her skin a pleasant pink. The pleasure spread from her belly, her groin, through her breasts and arms, then legs and toes, until she was alight with possibility, because it didn't matter whatever he was brooding about – not when he was making her feel like this.

The end came too quickly; it was intense and gripping, but she couldn't help feeling a sense of loss. She had wanted their reunion to be slow and lingering, like the other experiences they had shared. He stayed with her for a little while, his head pillowed on her shoulder, before pulling back and scooting his weight off her. Tonks curled herself around him; a simple gesture of protection, affection and acceptance.

It was in the early hours of the night that she realised, somewhere between sleep and panic. It hit her like a stunning spell; sent her flying back into her own thoughts.

For the first time in a long time – no, for the first time that she could remember – he had made love to her without telling her he loved her.

Not once; not at all. Not from the moment that he walked in to the moment they went to sleep; not when he moved over her. Not when her hands had skimmed the curve of his back or held his face firmly as they kissed. Not a hasty whisper.

Not once.

No sooner had the thought occurred to her, she threw the covers back and scrambled for her robe. She had to get some distance; she had to survey the scene before her as she'd been taught. Always stop to look at the scene of the crime before proceeding; consider in your head the best way to navigate around obstacles. Gage the level of damage and then enter with caution.

All she saw before her was Remus; in her bed. His long legs were poking out from beneath the covers and she could just about make out the tracks her fingers had made through his hair, which was in desperate need of a cut. His arm was limp and empty where she had wriggled from; an invitation that she knew she should have accepted. But she couldn't; it was all too dangerous to proceed, even with caution. This was unknown territory; there had been something off about him all night. She wasn't stupid; this was about the mission that he had been given.

Despite the gentle insistence that nothing would change, she was becoming slowly more aware of the fact that they would.

Her face grew hot; her breath came short, and she needed to get out of there.

Tonks made a dash for the door, taking in the mercifully cool, open space of her living area. The warm, stifling fabric of her robe was unbearable, and she quickly shed it, panicked and drawn, her heart threatening to break free of her chest. She couldn't stop it; couldn't do anything to make him better. She couldn't save the situation. A lifetime of control; relative control at least over her own feelings and ambitions. She had overcome her own doubts and her own feet to become an Auror. She had broken free of her doubtful mother; given up the constant love and acceptance of her father to make it on her own two feet.

And she had been brought down; naked and flushed and panicked on the floor at the thought of losing this one man. This one, wonderful man.

Her forehead was too hot, and the floor felt blissfully cool beneath it. She gasped and pressed as much of her face to the cool wood as she could; taking a moment to breathe. To let her blood flow back to where it belonged and to let her head stop spinning. She was going to be sick; so sick. The kind of sickness that left you shuddering and weak and lost.

She was cold now; and groped for the comforting touch of her abandoned robe; it was trapped beneath her. She was naked.

Get up.

You silly girl, get _up_.

She took a deep breath and stood on shaky legs.

She lost track of how long she stood, leant against the doorframe, wrapped in her robe, watching him. All she knew was that as he turned towards the middle of the bed and gathered the edge of the duvet against himself in his search for something to hold, she couldn't imagine a life in which that bed was empty. She couldn't imagine the second pillow unused, or the room silent around her own breathing.

How long had it been since they had laughed? Really laughed? Laughed until their stomachs hurt? When was the last time he had tickled her until she had to fight him off with her legs for lack of air? The last time he had made love to her playfully; without a looming spectral standing watch like the omen of what would come - the mission that would tear them apart.

"Come back to bed."

She hadn't noticed him wake, and jumped out of her skin. She calmed herself with a hand against her chest and caught the gentle flicker of light against his open eyes. His hand was outstretched and she knew; from everything about him in that moment, that he wanted to give her everything. But he couldn't, because his life was taken, stolen, and not his to give. The moon ruled him, but he had taken some of himself back; given what he could. But now the war would take him too, and there would be nothing left. Nothing left for her at all.

Tonks crawled back towards him, but didn't lie down.

"I know you'll have to go," she whispered into the darkness. "And I know how awful it makes you feel that you have to go. I know how difficult I make it; I know that I'm a brat. And so I'll say it once, and only once; I'll deny all knowledge of this after tonight, because Merlin knows I'm far too stubborn to repeat this..."

She drew a deep shaky breath and felt his eyes on her face.

"You can go. You can go and play the hero and do what you need to do. You can run away and be noble and bring people to our cause. You can fight, Remus. Without me holding you back. And I'll be here when you get back, understood? And you'll come back for me, because I'll be waiting, and I don't intend to wait around for nothing. You're not going to get yourself hurt or killed. And...Well, that's it."

"Yes, sir," Remus replied smartly, and tugged her down. Tonks let go and smiled, her lips pressed against his in a sweet kiss. "You should talk like Alastor more often. It's rather endearing."

"Mad-Eye does it for you, then?" she teased.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far."

She sighed and settled down, her head pillowed against his warm chest. His thumb grazed the terrycloth of her robe rhythmically, in time with her breathing.

"I could morph a crazy eye and a wooden leg if it gets you going."

"Dora, sleep."

"Yes, Professor Lupin," Tonks said, and then paused with her lips half pressed to his collarbone. "Tell me you love me?"

"Hmm? Of course I do."

She didn't sleep that night- barely even blinked. Surely he would have noticed, in the darkness, the racing of her worry-stricken heart? It was all _she_ could hear, thumping through her ears. She would never get used to this panic, she realised, but she would have to learn to live with it.

* * *

The weather was turning; spring was setting in, and the sheltered streets of Diagon Alley seemed to be immune to all elements but the rare, cool March sun. The winding, tunnelled streets lined with shops protected them from the wind, which Tonks could hear howling somewhere in the distance. She sighed and sat back in the little wooden chair, leaning her face up towards the sun. With the assistance of her Hot Chocolate, she had braved the outside for half an hour, and it was becoming gradually easier to remain in the deceptively cool sun as the day drew on and the morning ended.

She was waiting for her Mum, who was predictably late, in the empty outdoor dining section of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour – who admitted sold less ice cream and more cups of tea and crepes at this time of the year – and she was running late as ever. Tonks thought it odd that a woman as precise and together as her Mum should be running so late all the time. She probably thought it was the proper, ladylike thing to do. That or it was a Black Family trait that she had never quite managed to squash from her system.

Soon, she heard the clip of Andromeda's short heels and the rustle of clothing as she sat herself down opposite Tonks.

"Hello, Nymphadora," her mother greeted briskly. "Everything alright? You look a little thin."

"Everything's fine, Mum." Tonks sighed, smoothing her robes against her lap self-consciously.

She could feel her mother's eyes sweeping over her; assessing damage and judging.

"Have you seen the new spring wear in Madam Malkin's? I think it would look delightful with your skin. Well, if you decided on a more natural hair colour, that is."

"No, I haven't seen them," Tonks replied, a little stiffly, taking a sip of her hot chocolate, which was gradually growing cooler in the breezy air.

"Why are we sitting out here? It's bloody freezing," Andromeda complained.

Because we might not be able to sit outside and eat without fearing for our lives, Tonks wanted to say. In a few months, everything that they knew may just cease to exist. They may live under the threat of that which so many people refused to believe.

"Are you reading the Daily Prophet, Mum?" Tonks asked slowly.

Andromeda sniffed. "No, I'm trying to stay away," she admitted.

"That's good," Tonks nodded, looking into her drink. She could feel the questions brewing up in her mother's mouth, waiting to be unleashed.

She had kept so much from them; what she was doing at Grimmauld Place; her and Remus.

"And what do we have against the Daily Prophet, may I ask?" Andromeda enquired.

"You tell me, you're the one who won't read it," Tonks countered quickly, and then sighed. "Look, there's just a lot a rubbish in there and I don't want you getting caught up with it. I think you should know, more than most that dark wizards are still out there. The old beliefs are passed down in families, and the world isn't as safe as it seems. If there was ever...a leader...then so many would be willing to turn on everything we know today and..."

Tonks took a deep breath.

"What's happened to you," Andromeda asked suddenly, and Tonks looked up to find her mother's eyes concerned and open. "You've grown so old."

"I..." Tonks struggled to find the right words. "I...see a lot in my job. And I know better than anyone that what the Ministry says isn't always what the Ministry means. The Prophet is no better; half of the articles they run are being censored."

"Oh, my love," Andromeda breathed. It surprised Tonks when her mother grabbed her hand tightly between her own. "We know that something's not right. We know that the Prophet is telling lies."

"You do?" Tonks asked.

"Yes. And we know...that whatever you're doing...and I don't mean Auror work...well, we want to help."

Tonks swallowed the lump in her throat. "You can't. You and Dad..."

"We've been through enough. More than you. And I don't know what it is exactly that you're doing but..."

"I know, Mum; I know you've fought more than most people. But please, you need to believe me when I tell you that it's best if you don't get involved. Not like that."

"I'm not asking to join up...to whatever it is that you do. All I'm saying is that when something bad happens and there's nowhere to turn. Well, you can turn to us," Andromeda paused, her mousy brown hair glinting in the pale sunlight. She let out a cool laugh. "It seems wrong, doesn't it? Having to reassure your own daughter that she can turn to you. As though you need permission."

"Mum," Tonks said softly. "It's alright."

Andromeda stopped briefly as the shop owner made an appearance, taking her order of a black coffee and –after running a critical eye over her daughter's slender form – two crepes with chocolate sauce.

"So, how's Dad?" Tonks asked.

"He's fine," Andromeda nodded briskly, and Tonks could read her mother's mind; if she wanted updates on her father she would have to visit more often. "He couldn't come today because work called him in at the last minute."

"Ah," Tonks nodded, and toyed with the edge of her now empty mug.

"He was thinking of applying for a job at the Ministry, actually," Andromeda commented lightly.

Tonks stared. "After all that talk about you not trusting the Ministry or the Prophet...and Dad wants to work for them?" she asked slowly.

"Well, it's better money," Andromeda said with a short smile.

Tonks realised with a burst of fear. "You want to know what's going on, don't you? You want to try and find out for yourselves so you're not in the dark."

"You don't know what its like," Andromeda hissed. "All through my childhood I had to listen to all of these terrible plots. All of that hatred. It was awful; simply awful, but at least I could gage some measure of what was going on. You father and I have very few family connections. I gave up my job years ago and your father had no more connections than I do. The silence is deafening, Nymphadora."

"You have me," Tonks reminded her curtly.

"And you don't tell us what's happening," Andromeda reminded her.

"I want to, Mum, I do...but it's my job's worth; _more_ than my job's worth if I go around spreading things. I'm already highly suspicious."

"Why?" Andromeda asked, throwing her slender hands up in exasperation. "Why would they suspect you? Is it because of me? Do they think I've been teaching you to hate muggleborns?"

"No, Mum," Tonks reassured.

Andromeda seemed to still for a moment, and Tonks could see the process of discovery in her brain as though someone had lit a flame behind her eyes. The lines which had been growing deeper at the corner of her mother's eyes seemed to smooth for a moment, her face shocked and wary. She turned her dark eyes upon her daughter, her lips drawn together.

"It's because of the werewolf."

"No," Tonks insisted vehemently, and resisted the urge to spring up from her seat.

Andromeda seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that," she backtracked, wringing her hands. "Oh, Merlin, I sound just like _them_. Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Tonks was at a loss; she had never seen her mother so frantic. She had dark circles marring the pale skin beneath her eyes. She could imagine her at home; trying to talk seriously to a husband that couldn't have serious conversation if his life depended on it. She knew that was what had attracted them all of those years ago; her mother had lived in such a dark and morbid place that Ted Tonks' inability to be anything but bright and cheerful had made for the perfect cure.

Andromeda took a deep breath and calmed herself, a hand poised on her chest. The crepes arrived, and they handed over a few galleons. As they tucked into their sweet treats, the wind seemed to pick up; the sun grew cooler and the people that milled about seemed to retreat into the warm interior of the shops and pubs. It was like an omen; a ghostly premonition of what would come. Empty streets adorned with nothing with scared whispers and the echo of old joy.

"I am with Remus," Tonks whispered. She couldn't lie anymore.

"You are?" Andromeda said.

"Yes," Tonks nodded. "I have been for a while now. And I'm very happy."

"You are? You're happy with him? With that life?"

"Life is no different," Tonks told her, frowning. "He doesn't wear a sign saying 'werewolf'. People don't refuse to talk to me on the streets. No one treats me any different, mostly because people don't know. He doesn't look like a werewolf. He doesn't act like people expect him to. He's the best man I know, and whatever was written about him in the Daily Prophet was wrong."

"I'm glad you're happy," Andromeda said quietly, and sipped at her coffee. "But I know what this will do to you. When I married Ted, none of my family would talk to me. They all hated me; not just petty hate, but to the point where they wanted me dead. The rest of the world where wary of me because I was a Black. My point is that if you want him, then you're going to have to take all of these things on board, Nymphadora. It's all new and fresh and sweet when it first begins, and then things start to taste sour. But I want you to know, that no matter what you chose, your family will never hate you. We'll stand by you no matter what."

"Thank you," Tonks muttered.

"But I _still_ don't approve," Andromeda said through pursed lips.

"I know."

"And I still think that you deserve better," she warned.

"I know," Tonks grinned. "I love you, Mum."

"Eat your food, Dora."

* * *

"I'll miss the cold weather, you know?"

"Hmm? You hate the cold," Remus reminded her, his lips against her temple.

Tonks curled the blanket tighter around them both and shifted in his lap. The sofa was facing the grand fireplace, which staved off the night time chill and the dampness of the old house. Remus read a book over her shoulder, his arms straining around her awkwardly every time he wanted to turn the page, so much that he had taken to nudging Tonks gently when he had finished, so that she could turn the next page for him. She was only half glancing at what he was reading; it was a novel, and she couldn't pick up the plot from the broken snatches she had caught.

"I'll miss being able to curl up, though," she admitted, resting her head on his shoulder. Remus gave a distracted hum of agreement and pressed a light kiss against her temple.

The meeting had been standard, with the appearances made by Dumbledore few and far between. Tonks had wondered idly if she should be happy or sad about this; his attendance excluded her. But still, they all needed words of reassurance from their leader, and even Mad-Eye seemed a little lost when it was left to him to convey Dumbledore's wishes. The ex-Auror had taken to heightening security even further, to the point where worried glances were exchanged over the large wooden table.

It hadn't escaped Tonks' notice that she and Kingsley were being assigned fewer and fewer surveillance missions. Clearly Dumbledore was worried about them being seen; the Order needed people inside the Ministry. Without it they were blind.

"I miss this," she whispered. "Seems like there's barely any time for this anymore."

Remus placed his book down on face first to hold his page, and slipped his arms tightly around her. Her hair, pink as ever, seemed to be wilting slightly against her head.

"I know, love," he replied simply, and sighed.

"Have you spoken to Dumbledore?" she asked, and fiddled with a button on the front of his shirt.

"Not since my birthday," he admitted. "But I think it's set in stone, now, Dora. I'm sorry, but this is just something we're going to have to work through."

"You're going away," she breathed, "far away."

"But I'm coming back," he counteracted.

"What if you don't?" she asked, her voice shaky.

He didn't answer, and it disturbed her even more than an admission of danger. It showed her that somewhere deep inside, he had been running on the pretence that all would be well during the underground mission, and that the only thing they would need to contend with would be the distance between them.

Tonks' heart pounded with the topic that she had wanted to bring up for so long now. Her mind kept running back weeks, and she played the scene over and over and over until she was reasonable certain that fifty percent of it had been a dream:

"_Or you'll just have to marry me."_

"Remus..." Tonks began, and pulled back off his lap to sit next to him on the dusty old loveseat. "Have you thought about making us official?"

It was the worst reaction she could have received; his head fell forwards, and his brow furrowed. He sighed in exasperation. "Tonks, please don't do this."

"Okay, forget I said anything," Tonks replied, extremely mollified.

"Look, I know what happens during war. Marriages increase by around fifty percent because everyone is convinced that it's their last chance."

"Remus-"

"I can't marry, Tonks," he said curtly, and picked up his book. "And I mean _can't_..."

"You-?"

"The law prevents me from marrying. All dark creatures that pose a serious threat are forbidden from binding themselves lawfully to a witch or wizard. It's one of Dolores Umbridge's more...recent additions."

Tonks swallowed the lump in her throat; for so long she had wondered how to approach the topic, and his reaction had been the last thing she had expected.

"Besides, I'm not entirely sure that they're wrong."

"Excuse me?" Tonks asked through gritted teeth.

He practically threw his book down in frustration, rising from his seat and pacing back and forth in the space between them. The rug beneath his feet threw up little puffs of dust. Tonks watched him, her entire body tensed to react to whatever was coming next; and it would be a storm. Of that she was sure; a storm of a man worn down by years of prejudice, to the point where he would believe and accept what people told him he was, despite all evidence to the contrary.

"I'm not someone you would want to marry, Tonks," he told her, wringing his hands. "I know that this; us...it's wonderful. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me but never, ever would I force you to stay with me by marrying you. It would be the most selfish thing I could ever do."

Tonks could only gawp. He paused and looked straight at her.

"I want you to have at least the option of a normal life," Remus told her, and Tonks could see the moisture in his eyes. "I can't deny you what you want, but I can do this. I can give you an escape route just in case."

"I don't want a sodding escape route, I just want _you_," Tonks told him.

"That's what you want now, but in two years, three years. You might meet someone Tonks. Someone who can give you things that I can't. Who has more years left to live and who doesn't spend most of his days recovering from a beast inside him? It eats me up, Tonks. The creature inside me, it stratches away and I get weaker. You're at a point in your life when you're ready to get stronger."

"You make me stronger," Tonks insisted, her fingers clutching at the blanket.

"Like I said, I won't deny you what you want for as long as you want it, but I won't let you tie yourself to me when I'm so dangerous."

"I thought we were over all this," Tonks muttered, angry. "I thought that you'd worked past it. And I thought that I had helped. But I didn't, really, did I? I didn't help at all; you were just giving in to me."

"Don't be silly," he sighed.

"I'm not being silly, Remus! If you didn't want to marry me then you shouldn't have bloody well mentioned it!"

Remus crossed the room, rubbing his eyes wearily. He stood before Tonks and cupped her face gently. It felt good, but she twitched away from his touch on principal. "I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't sweetheart me, you great git," she shot back, only half serious.

He grabbed her hands from the woolly confines of the blanket and tugged her to her feet. She went, sure to keep her face dour and displeased. He stood like that for a moment, studying her face, before he urged her forwards and into his arms. She accepted, a little stiffly, and tried to stifle the waves of hot disappointment that threatened to flush through her face and her heart. He hadn't said he didn't want to, she reminded herself; just that he was unable to.

His arms were firm around her waist, and for a moment, they grieved together for the life that they would never be able to have. She had been able to see a day when she could come home and call him her husband; where she could have proof that they were truly meant to be together. A piece of comfort in a cold war. But nowadays their relationship seemed even more addled by the chilly depths of what would come. And it was just the beginning; the war would not be a secret for much longer, and the entire wizarding world would be set on edge. Wary of dark creatures, and in a heightened state of panic, Remus would not be accepted amongst those who had previously been able to look past his affliction. Things would grow worse for both of them.

Remus swayed her this way and that, his warmth of his shoulder and the smell of his jumper sweet against her face. She closed her eyes and felt the movement beneath her feet. He rocked them both comfortingly. It wasn't a retraction of what he'd said earlier, just an acknowledgement that he loved her; that she loved him.

"Forget weddings and full moons. Just let it go, Dora. Forget prejudice and fighting. Right here; this is peace."

Tonks nodded against his shoulder and relaxed a little, the wedding that would never be slowly leaving her mind that a dream that she'd had but couldn't quite bring herself to remember. Perhaps that was all they could ever have; dreams of a life better than the world could give them.

Perhaps she didn't need anything else. Just him; just peace.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Again, thanks for the reviews, and do keep them coming!**


	23. Late Nights

** To anyone who has been patient enough to wait for this chapter, thank you.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Late Nights

"_DUMBLEDORE SACKED. Dolores Umbridge replaces him as Head of Hogwarts."_

The newspaper sat on the coffee table between them like a curse. After twelve hours without word from their leader, the Order began to worry. Mad-Eye had temporarily taken over as head of the Order, and things were running at normal, if a little chaotically.

Kingsley sat on an old armchair in the library, clearly deep within his own thoughts. Tonks worried at the knees of her jeans and shifted a little closer to Remus, whose hands were clasped on his knees. On cue, Molly entered, holding a tray of sandwiches to tide them over. The night was disturbed by deep thunderous rain and the occasional flash of lightning. Sirius dove for the food and dug in enthusiastically.

Arthur and Dung were deeply engaged in a game of chess, which Arthur seemed to be winning. Several Order members were missing from the meeting.

"Are you sure he gave no clues, Kingsley?" Sirius asked, for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"As I've said,"Kingsley barked, sounding very unlike his usual, calm self, "he simply vanished. No one was able to track him."

"Dumbledore wouldn't have left us without word if he didn't believe us capable of carrying on ourselves. The last thing we need is for Dumbledore to be tracked down and taken. I say we have nothing to worry about."

"But still, we should wait," Molly nodded.

"Yes, we should wait."

The atmosphere remained electric. Tonks had been in the Auror office when she had received the news. Almost no one had known about the plan to take Dumbledore in. Kingsley had filled her in on the eventful day as soon as they were out of earshot of Scrimgeour and Fudge, both of whom remained uptight and puce-faced for the rest of the day, barking orders to find Dumbledore and take him straight to Azkaban.

Either forgetful of the company they were in, or simply to agitated to care, Remus took her hand in his and held on tight. They had reached a point in their friendship with the others that it was unthinkable for any of them to disapprove of their relationship.

Tonks turned her face up to his. "Wotcher," she whispered, and it pulled a small smile from him.

Everything was silent, and then; "You could have stopped them!"

All eyes turned to Hestia Jones, who was glaring directly at Kingsley. "You could have stopped them from taking Dumbledore and then none of us would be in this mess."

"I beg your pardon," Kingsley replied icily, rising to his feet. "Exactly what good would it have done to draw attention to the fact that I'm a spy in the Ministry? It's all so easy in the Administrative Office, isn't it, Hestia? Safe behind the lines."

"And you!" Hestia continued, her pretty face an angry pink as she turned towards Tonks. "You're an Auror too! Did it occur to neither of you that Dumbledore chose to have spies in such a position so that you might protect him in situations like this?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Tonks ground out. "To reveal ourselves to Fudge would have been the last thing that Dumbledore wanted. Calm down, Hestia."

"No, I will not calm down. I can't believe that we've failed him so badly!"

"We have _not_ failed him."

"Dumbledore told both of us that in the event of the Ministry coming after him we were both to _lay low _and let events unfold," Kingsley said, fists clenched at his sides.

"And what are we left with? No leader and no idea where to find him. Nowhere to start and a school under the rule of possibly the vilest woman to ever have worked at the Ministry. What exactly are we supposed to do now?"

"We stay calm," Remus supplied quietly, "as Dumbledore would want us to."

Hestia took a deep breath, nodded once, and sat back down, eyes on the floor. She seemed almost embarrassed. Tonks did not blame her; they all felt the strain and worry, but Hestia had evidently reached boiling point before anyone else.

"Do you think he's alright?" Molly asked, her voice hushed, "do you think he's safe?"

"Dumbledore can handle himself, Molly," Kingsley soothed. "Wherever he is, he's more use to us than if he had been locked away in Azkaban."

"Surely they wouldn't have gone that far?"

"They would stop at nothing to silence him."

Tonks watched the clock strike three, and took a deep breath. Her tea was still mercifully hot on the table next to her, and she took a grateful sip. Her feet throbbed within her boots, aching to be free after a long day at the office.

"Has anyone heard from Severus?" Remus asked.

"Snape," Sirius piped up at last, "just the man we need."

"As a matter of fact, he may be useful when it comes to keeping an eye on what's going on inside Hogwarts," Remus reminded his friend.

"Harry can tell us," Sirius said.

"Harry," Remus reasoned, "should not focus on anything but his studies. It sounds as though Umbridge is making his life hard enough as it is."

"Yes," Molly agreed, "the children should be focusing on their work. None of us should burden them with our worries. Especially Harry. He's had enough trouble for a lifetime."

"Harry can handle himself," Sirius objected loudly.

"He shouldn't have to!"Molly countered, equally as riled. "He's just a boy! Or perhaps you've forgotten that. He's a boy and he's been through some terrible things. But he's not a man, not even close."

"He's braver than some men of forty!"

"But _he shouldn't need to be,_" Molly repeated, "he should be able to count on us to be brave for him, so he can have the childhood he deserves."

"You can't go back to being a child after the things he's seen Molly. He's already grown up well beyond his years."

"No! You're blinded by how much he looks like James," Molly said angrily.

"Not this rubbish again," Sirius roared, standing from his chair.

"I don't think its rubbish at all. You're placing the burdens of a man on the shoulders of a boy. Burdens that you should carry yourself," she said.

"Exactly what have I burdened Harry with?" Sirius asked.

"Simply the knowledge of what we do will pique his interest and you know it. He can't hear of a group against you-know-who without wanting to be directly involved!"

"And he's got good reason to be!" Sirius said. "Voldemort took everything from him!"

Molly paused, breathing deeply, her hand held over her heart as though attempting to calm its racing. "He's got us," she said shakily. "We won't leave him."

"I certainly won't," Sirius said, his voice a little softer. It sounded like reconciliation.

"Neither will I," Remus said gently, and then, "no one here will. We all owe more to Harry than we could ever express. And Dumbledore or no Dumbledore, we will continue to fight for Harry."

"For Harry," Molly agreed. "And Ron, Ginny...Fred and George and Charlie and Bill and...and Percy."

"For everyone we love," Remus concurred. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

"And dear Hermione, of course," Molly added.

They were distracted by the arrival of an owl rapping smartly on the window. There seemed to be a collective intake of breath. It was a smart, tawny owl; a stranger to all of them. Its feathers were sleek and glistening with the rain. Hestia let it in, and it shook itself importantly, holding out a steady leg.

Hestia read:

"_Do not fear, the thing that you seek is not far from your heart. In dark times, we can become separate from the ones we need the most, but in time, two parts of a whole have a penchant to find each other despite the odds._

_Keep strong."_

Everyone was silent, staring; Sirius' mouth had fallen open. Tonks understood; to the more poetic and sentimental of the group, this may seem to be sound advice, but they had been hoping for more word from their leader.

Kingsley took the letter and scanned it with a dubious eyebrow. "Well, it looks like his writing. I suppose he couldn't risk the owl being intercepted."

"But there's cryptic and then there's just vague," Sirius gawped. "Or in this case, bloody poetic. We're none the wiser as to where he is."

"No, but we know that he's alive and thinking of us," Tonks reminded them. "That's something."

"Mad-Eye can continue as our leader until we hear more from Dumbledore," Kingsley said, "he's strong. I'll help, where I can. Remus, we'll need you too."

For a moment, Tonks pondered the wisdom of mentioning Remus as a leader and making no mention of Sirius. Indeed, her cousin's jaw clenched tight, and he glared at Kingsley for a moment, who was still absorbed in the letter. Arthur had risen to pace slowly, rhythmically. He had had a long day at work too, and Tonks could see the dark circles under his eyes. She empathised.

"Alright," Kingsley sighed, and rubbed a hand over his bristly face. "Time to go home. Good work, everyone."

It was something she was used to hearing; in Auror training Kingsley's lessons had always concluded with _good work, everyone_. It seemed almost out of place, because all they had done for the past few hours was sat and waited. Good work for not falling asleep, perhaps.

Or good work for not falling apart...

* * *

"You'd trip over your own head if it wasn't fixed to your shoulders."

"This coming from the man who has to carry his head in a trolley because it's too big to stay up on its own," Tonks snorted, and winced as Sirius gingerly prodded at her swollen ankle.

"Well, it's definitely broken," Sirius sighed, looking uncertain. "I could try to..."

"Oh, God, you don't know how to fix bones, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Sirius protested. "I'm just a little out of practice. And, well, I haven't fixed an ankle before."

Tonks let her head fall back to the dusty arm of the sofa and grimaced as her ankle throbbed a little harder. Her toes felt huge and immobile. The blood seemed trapped in her ankle, swirling around and pressing against the sensitive skin until it was frantic to escape.

Whoever had left the rug rumpled and waiting for a willing foot would find themselves on the end of a nasty hex, she decided.

"Okay, so, if I remember rightly, this needs elevating. I'll try to feel where it's broken," Sirius said.

He found a plump cushion on one of the armchairs and sat at her feet, black hair thrown over his shoulder so that he could see what he was doing. She studied her own toenail in an attempt to keep quiet, watching the polish glint in contrast to the dusty velvet of the cushion.

"So," Sirius said, and she bit her lips as his fingers began to run in small circles over the sore skin, looking for the fracture, "word on the street is that Emmeline's after your pretty little hide."

"Don't trust everything Dung tells you," Tonks reminded him through gritted teeth.

"Ah, Dung's breath is less than peachy but the quality of his gossip is nothing short of rose petals, I can assure you."

"Funny," Tonks smiled tightly. "And I think she's far more interested in Remus' hide, and for far more pleasant reasons."

"I had a feeling it would be something like that. Moony's a little too popular with the ladies now he's in his thirties. He must be one of those wizards that get more alluring with age. Still, it makes up for Hogwarts I suppose."

"He wasn't a draw for the ladies, I take it," Tonks smirked.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. More that he was more focused on books than girls. Bloody fool, if you ask me," Sirius countered.

"And you're aim was to what...conquer Hogwarts one witch at a time?"

"Oh, of course. Sometimes, even two at a time."

"Oh, shut up," Tonks snorted.

His thumb found a tender spot at the side of her foot and she hissed. The pain grew, blooming until she had to bite down on her lip hard in an attempt not to scream.

Mad-Eye took the opportunity to enter through the open doorway, his appearance heralded by the ominous sound of his wooden leg on the old floorboards. "The rug wasn't cursed," he informed them helpfully, "you were just clumsy. Still, doesn't hurt to be-"

"Vigilant," Tonks finished through her teeth. "Ouch!"

"Is it broken?" Mad-Eye asked, and limped over for a better look. "You'll want to make the binding as swift as possible, Sirius. The more she screams the better."

"Oh, I'm so lucky to have broken my ankle in the company of you two. I've got the man who's never fixed more than a toe and the militant sadist. You know what; just take me to St. Mungo's will you? I'm not risking this."

"Absolutely not, we're not taking you out when you're off your guard. You'll be a hindrance," Mad-Eye said.

"I think there's a pretty bad break right here," Sirius said thoughtfully, tracing a small line across the top of her ankle leading down to the side. "But I can't be sure. I've only ever fixed a big toe. Mad-Eye, what if you...?"

"No bloody way," Tonks growled.

"Don't be insolent," Mad-Eye countered. "Let me see, Sirius."

Sirius gave her an apologetic shrug and backed away to give Mad-Eye a better view of her swollen ankle. His magical eye roamed over the break, no doubt seeing every swollen tendon and fracture. He pursed his lips. "Tonks, how on earth did you manage to do so much damage by tripping over a rug?"

"It's a gift," Tonks ground out. "Look, is anyone going to do anything about this or are we all going to gawp at the balloon ankle until the ministry gets involved?"

"Hmm," Mad-Eye said thoughtfully. "It's going to be a tricky one to mend. Once it's all fixed it should be fine to walk on though. It's a clean break. Might be sore for a while."

"Just get it over with," she sighed, and closed her eyes tightly.

She braced herself for pain, and sure enough Mad-Eye muttered _episkey! _and her ankle shifted painfully back into place. She cried out, and heard Mrs Black answer in the hallway downstairs. He hadn't lied; the initial shift had been extremely painful, but now it was back in place she felt much better. Her toes were still swollen, but she could wriggle them without biting pain shooting through her foot.

Tonks sighed in relief. "Thanks."

Mad-Eye gave an answering grunt and heaved himself up. "Sirius, bind it for her so she can be up and on her feet for duty tonight."

"Ah, I knew it was too good to be true," Tonks half smiled.

When Mad-Eye was gone, Sirius retook his place at her side, and gently poked her ankle. A swift flick on his wand and he had conjured some bandages. Carefully, he began to wrap them around her foot.

"I'll do it by hand, so there's less pain," Sirius assured her, looking sympathetic. "Sorry. If I'd set the bone you might have ended up with no ankle at all. It would have gotten you out of guard duty but you probably wouldn't have thanked me."

Tonks scoffed. Her cousin's hands worked slowly and carefully, threading the bandage up and over her ankle and back around, tightening it every time until the precarious appendage began to feel sturdy again.

"Remus told me that you spoke to Harry," Tonks said gently, watching her cousin's expression.

"Hmm," Sirius agreed through pursed lips. "I'm not entirely sure how he managed to get such a grasp on rule breaking. I certainly wasn't around to teach him. It must be in the blood. I can't imagine he learnt anything from those muggles."

"So you wouldn't have pulled off breaking into a teacher's office and using the floo network?"

"Me? I was a model student," Sirius exclaimed, and then gave a short bark of laughter. "He had some questions about his father, actually."

"Remus said he was worried," Tonks prompted.

"Seems he was given a little snapshot of, well, not James' best days," Sirius said, "not that Snape didn't deserve it, the smarmy git. Remus still beats himself up about all of that. He got it into his head that if James had left well alone then Snape would never have joined the other side."

"And we never would have gotten a spy," Tonks reminded him.

"Precisely," Sirius said smugly.

"Was it bad, how you treated Snape?" she prompted further.

"It was...childish. But Snape gave as good as he got most of the time, and James grew out of it quickly. Snape carried it with him all through school. In fact, I don't think he ever got over it. At least with James it was a phase. We weren't saints. Not even Remus."

"Oh?" Tonks smiled.

"He didn't exactly object," Sirius explained. "I think a part of him wanted revenge for Snape's jibes over his 'recurring bouts of illness'."

Tonks laughed, "Right."

"Well then, my favourite cousin, I think your ankle is just about ready to go," Sirius exclaimed proudly, spreading his arms as though expecting a round of applause.

Tonks wriggled her toes and gently flexed the joint. It felt tender, but otherwise workable. There was no more throbbing, and the swelling already seemed to be dissipating. She sighed in relief. She hated being incapacitated, especially when it was her own fault. Which, of course, it wasn't. It was the rug's fault.

On that positive note, she let herself be heaved to her feet. Sirius grumbled about how heavy she was and missing the days when he could carry her under his arm. On impulse, she hugged him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist in a squeeze of thanks. He was like the big brother she had never had.

"I might get Kreacher to remove all trip hazards from this place," Sirius mused. "Or you'll have no bones left by September."

"Make sure to get rid of that bloody umbrella stand," Tonks grumbled, pulling away from him.

* * *

Remus returned during dinner. The clatter of knives and forks against china plates halted as the fireplace burst into a litter of green flames, bringing forth a tired looking Remus and a stunned silence. He seemed to be out of breath, and his robes looked ragged. The floo was emergency only, and for a moment everyone simply stared. Mundungus' fork hovered halfway between his plate and his mouth, a carrot waiting patiently on the end. Remus smiled a little at the attentive reception, and Tonks half rose from her seat, but gently sank back down as she felt all eyes turn to her.

"It's alright," Remus assured. "I'm fine."

Molly rose, hand held over her heart, and crossed over to him, brushing the remnants of Floo powder from his cloak. "Oh, dear, what happened?"

The gentle, comfortable chatter began to flare again, and Tonks felt a little more comfortable. Remus unfastened his cloak and straightened out his thin grey jumper. He looked extremely tired.

"Bloody hell, Moony," Sirius gaped, leaning forwards over the table as Remus took a seat next to Tonks. "What happened?"

Arthur had put down his fork and was listening intently as Remus began to explain. "I had a run in with some Ministry officials. They said they wanted to take me in under suspicion of consorting with dark creatures. I spent the last three hours explaining my way out of the Ministry. It seems that in the absence of catching Dumbledore, anyone will do."

"Good lord!" Arthur said, brow furrowed. "That's barbaric!"

"Yes," Remus agreed gently. "They claimed to have evidence that I had been associated with known criminal werewolves and had been seen to be making plots against the Ministry."

Molly placed a plate of pie and thick chips in front of Remus, with a liberal chunk of bread. Remus looked ravenous, and he dove into his food. Everyone seemed to wait with baited breath until he swallowed the first mouthful and could continue speaking.

"They escorted me in," he said, "while I was in Diagon Alley. Two heavyweights that clearly didn't have more than two brain cells to rub together. I tried explaining to them that it was all a big mistake but they wouldn't budge. Eventually I got in touch with Amelia Bones. She dealt with my inquiry after the incident at Hogwarts, and pulled a few strings for me to get me out. She thinks that the prejudice that's arisen towards werewolves is ridiculous."

"Bloody hell," Tonks breathed. "If I'd known..."

"You couldn't have risked being seen to be affiliated with me," Remus reminded her gently. Under the table, away from prying eyes, he squeezed her knee. "There were at least two other werewolves in the office while I was, all charged with the same offence. It seems that Fudge has hit rock bottom."

"I'll bet its Scrimgeour," Tonks said. "You remember all that nonsense about dark creatures being allowed to live out in the open?"

"Yes," Remus said. "It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest."

"I'm sorry, Remus," Arthur said morosely. "I'm sorry about all this. I couldn't be more ashamed to work for the Ministry than I am right now."

"It's alright, Arthur," Remus smiled kindly. ""I'm lucky that there are still decent people who work for the Ministry. If there weren't I might've been looking at a stay in Azkaban."

A fork clattered against a plate heavy, and Sirius drew a shaky breath. Everyone watched as he lifted his head and gave a tight smile. "You don't want to go there, mate. The catering's got nothing on Molly."

Remus smiled and dove back into his food. Tonks took an unsteady breath and watched.

Emmeline's eyes flickered towards them for a moment, lips tight. Tonks felt a rush of shame. At a time like this, jealousy felt like such a petty and dirty thing. The world could be ending; good men like Remus were getting blamed for things they couldn't help. It wouldn't do to fight over another human being. Emmeline was just Tonks, in another life. A Tonks where Remus hadn't returned her feelings. A Tonks that had to sit and watch and love in silence.

Mad-Eye was in deep, animated conversation with Molly. Emmeline turned back to Hestia and struck up quiet conversation, and Arthur became absorbed in the Prophet, brow furrowed behind his glasses.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked gently, finishing the last of his food. He pushed the last few chips to her and she gratefully finished them.

"I'm fine," she assured through a mouthful of potato. Remus lifted the corner of his mouth in a fond smile. "I tripped earlier but it was nothing."

"Nothing?" Sirius scoffed. Tonks silenced him with a glare. "Alright, if you say so."

Her cousin leant back on his chair, rocking idly and scanning the room.

"Come back to mine tonight?" she asked, holding Remus' eyes.

Remus looked hesitant for a moment, and then said "alright."

"I have guard duty tonight, but I'll be back around three," she told him.

"I'll wait up for you," he nodded.

"You don't have to," she reasoned empathically, "you've had a hard day."

"I'd like to wait," he said, with an air of finality.

Molly cleared the plates away. With the meeting and dinner behind them, the unusually large congregation began to head homebound, and only a few people remained. Kingsley made sure that Tonks could handle guard duty alone – which she assured him that she could – and took his leave. Mad-Eye lingered a little longer, and Tonks was sure that she could feel the gaze of his magical eye linger on her tender ankle, bound in its firm bandage.

"Bugger off," she said out of the corner of her mouth. "It's fine."

"You could be a liability," Mad-Eye countered.

"I'll be absolutely fine," Tonks insisted brightly. "I think I can handle sitting on the floor for a few hours."

"It's not always that simple," Arthur reminded her gently, with a shudder.

Tonks winced in sympathy and apology. "Right. Of course. Sorry, Arthur."

"I'll go," Remus offered quietly, firmly.

"No bloody way," Tonks argued. "If you think I'm going to let you be a noble git after the day you've had then you've got another thing coming."

"But you-"

"I'm fine! I can handle it. End of conversation," Tonks finished.

Remus didn't argue, but she could see the tension in his shoulders for the rest of the night. She wanted to go home with him and curl up and make him feel better. Her eyes were tired, but her body sang with a sense of duty. She had joined the Order so she could fight. And fight she would. Especially now, when the Ministry was targeting people that she loved.

The hours until midnight seemed to fly by, in a flurry of conversation, some laughter and joking, and goodbyes. Molly stayed, and put some scoring cloths to work on the dirty old pots and pans that Sirius had left festering. Every now and then, she would let forth a great tut or sigh of deep disapproval. Sirius seemed not to notice.

When the time came to leave, Remus cast a wary eye around the room and pulled her bodily towards him for a kiss. She closed her eyes and sighed against his mouth, hoping that it could tide her over for the next few hours. She could feel the tension in him; the need for her. She prayed time would go quickly.

As it was, the time went extremely, extremely slowly. Her bum went numb and the corridors that lead towards the Department of Mysteries were unusually cold, leaving her shivering and clutching the invisibility cloak around herself for warmth. Her ankle was sore, and as time went on began to throb with stiffness. She wished that she could walk about, or even better, crawl into bed.

The arrival of two o'clock was extremely welcome, and Tonks apparated back to Grimmauld Place to hand over the cloak to Hestia Jones, who was deeply buried in a mug of strong coffee. Finally homebound, she relaxed.

Her flat was quiet and dark when she entered, and she lit a lamp next to the fireplace. She bent down and placed it on the hearth, considering lighting a fire and letting it sooth her chilled, aching bones.

Warm arms came around her from behind, and a smile bloomed across her face.

"Wotcher," she said quietly, so as not to disturb the peace of the room.

Remus kissed the side of her head in greeting, and sighed against her ear. His body seemed to sag against her, as though he had been waiting, tense, for her arrival.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Fine. No problems. Boring as ever."

"I would say good but I don't doubt that you would have revelled in a fight."

"With this ankle? I don't think I would have won."

He led her over to the sofa, and urged her leg up onto the coffee table. Easing her boot off gently, he ran his fingers over the bandage.

"It's all fixed," she assured him. "Just sore. In fact, take the bandage off."

"Are you sure?" he asked, eyes concerned.

"Positive," she nodded. "Can we go to bed? I'm so tired."

"Of course," he agreed, and helped her to her feet. They made their way into the dark bedroom, not bothering to light the room before collapsing onto the bed.

It was heaven, and for a moment Tonks lay face down in the soft duvet. She heard Remus laugh softly next to her. He gently unwound the bandage from her foot and she stretched gratefully. Unfortunately, this resulted in a particularly nasty kick to his eyebrow.

Tonks rolled over and gaped up at him in horror; one eye scrunched up in pain, watering slightly.

"Oh, God! Remus, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, rushing to the proverbial rescue, "so, so, so sorry."

He laughed a little grimy and rubbed the red little patch, primed to develop into a nasty purple bruise. "No harm done," he assured her.

To her surprise, he tackled her to the bed gently, and playfully nuzzled her neck. She laughed jovially, and tried to escape, but he held her tight.

Eventually, they made their way under the sheets, too tired to get ready for bed properly. Tonks shed her robes and jeans and settled in her t-shirt, wriggling her feet in the cool, pleasant sheets. Remus settled next to her in his underwear, and held out an arm in invitation. She settled against his side gratefully.

She mused for a while that they only seemed to find time to be together while they slept. She had forgotten what it was like not to be tired.

* * *

Tonks sighed and dragged the warm cloth up Remus' arm. The blood clung to the tiny blonde hairs and he hissed. She winced, dousing the soft fabric in the warm water and redoubling her efforts. He lay face down on a blanket in his room, a clean sheet covering his hips and thighs as she cleaned his wounds. His eyes watched her face as she worked; skin dark and covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the discomfort. Every now and then, his eyes would become damp with light tears.

"Alright?" she asked, wincing in sympathy for him.

"Yes," he muttered. The goblet of pain relieving potion sat empty next to them, but wasn't standing up to the deeper cuts. It had been a nasty transformation. She could see the scar at the back of his neck was an angry pink. The scar she hadn't been able to save him from; months old but fresh in her memory.

His eyes fluttered shut. "Still with me?" she asked. He nodded slightly.

He hadn't yet found the strength to move himself off the floor. She tended to his wounds as best she could.

On impulse, she bent down to press a soft kiss against his temple. He hummed gratefully, but painfully.

Morning light came through the little gaps in the heavy brocade curtain, guiding her to the worst of the damage. He had only had half a course of Wolfsbane, and Sirius had had to bind him magically to stop him hurting himself or anyone else. The attic had been sealed carefully, but the bindings had come loose, and he had sunk his sharp teeth and claws into his own precious body. He had pulled him arm out of its socket escaping; it had fixed back after the transformation, but there was an angry purple bruise marring most of his arm, and he cried out whenever she tried to touch it. Sirius had helped him to his room and fixed some of the wounds, but when Tonks had entered an hour later, he was on the floor, unconscious.

Her own tender ankle throbbed in response, and she shifted her leg so that she could stretch it out in front of her. Very gently, she ran her wand along one of the deeper cuts. It came together a little, and the bleeding lessened, but the skin refused to knit. She sighed; magical wounds.

He reached a shaky, long fingered hand out towards her, and her heart bled for him. She took it and kissed his knuckles, whispering reassurance.

"It's fine," she said. "It's looking much better now. Does it feel better?"

"Yes," he said, barely audible.

With pupils wide from the potions racing through his blood, he watched her. Lips parted slightly behind his short growth of sandy beard. She hated to think that he had been in this much pain at a time before he would allow her to help.

"Do you think you can stand? Just to get onto the bed?"

"No," he admitted. "Not right now. I'm fine here. Lay down with me."

She settled, a little awkwardly next to him. It wasn't comfortable on her side, so she lay on her back and tilted her head to face him. He blinked sleepily, mouth set in a sweet pout. She ran her fingertips along his cheek, and tried to smile. She tried to lighten the atmosphere. He had told her once that she was better than the sun after a transformation. She felt like she wasn't serving her purpose. It would do him no good for her to be glum.

He settled a hand over her stomach, slipping under her t-shirt to feel the reassuring warmth of her skin. Tonks smiled, and he answered with his own.

"What would I do without you?" he croaked.

"Be miserable and gloomy," Tonks told him, laughing lightly.

"Ah, yes, of course."

"And sexually unfulfilled."

He laughed; a wheezing, strained laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. It creased the sides of his eyes and the corners of his mouth.

She shifted closer; felt his warm breath on her face.

"I have to go to work in an hour," she whispered. She glanced at the clock, which read half past seven.

"I'm sorry," Remus said.

"For what?"

"You hate getting out of bed," he croaked.

"I'm more than content to get out of bed for you," she reminded him. She pressed a kiss against his forehead, and heard him sigh.

"I don't know what I'll do without you," he muttered, on her verge of sleep. Tonks frowned; it sounded awfully finite; the gaping difference between _what would I do without you?_ and _what will I do without you?_

"You won't have to do without me," Tonks said lightly. "I'll always be here."

Remus' hand tightened on her stomach, and then moved away completely in favour of her face. He wrapped a lock of pink hair around his knuckles, his nails scratching pleasantly across her scalp.

"We love each other, don't we?" she whispered, eyes imploring him. "We can make it through anything together."

Remus looked sad. "I would never want to hurt you."

"You don't have to," Tonks reassured. "As long as you're here, I'm fine. It doesn't matter if we can't marry. Doesn't matter if we can't go and sit in the Leaky Cauldron and have a drink for fear of being caught. None of it matters, as long as you're here. As long as we can stay like this."

He looked fit to cry. She had whispered, as though conveying a great secret.

"Remus?" she encouraged.

"Yes, you're right."

She winked playfully. "I always am."

She placed a hand over his heart and it beat firmly against her palm; reassuring and steady. His body went through such strain. Her mind wandered, as it so often did, to the years to come. Would a cure for his condition be discovered? It wasn't so long ago that Wolfsbane was a breakthrough treatment. No one had considered lycanthropy as a legitimate illness before then; no one had cared enough.

"So," Tonks said, eager to keep him awake until he gathered the strength to move to the bed, "I hear that at school you were more into libraries than girls. I'm not sure _book fetish_ would be appropriate, but should I be concerned?"

Remus snorted, and said, "You should learn to take everything that Sirius says with a pinch of salt. Especially things regarding our days at Hogwarts."

"And here I was waiting for you to ask me to sit in the library in my underwear while you play saucy librarian."

"Oh, Dora, don't," he laughed painfully.

"I could need help with some referencing, and accidentally drop a book..."

He turned his head away, his body shaking with mirth, "You'll give me a heart attack."

She laughed heartily and waited for him to turn his head back to her. A playful smile played around her lips, but his eyes still looked weary. Tonks pressed a chaste kiss against his lips, his cheekbone, and then his ear. He tested his weight on his tired arms, but they gave way, and they both decided to lie there a little longer.

A knock on the door, and Sirius called through; "Everything alright in there?"

"Fine," Tonks called back, and got to her feet. "Come on, Remus, bed is the best place for you."

She heard her cousin move on.

With great effort, she helped him to his feet, and then to the edge of the mattress, which he gratefully and promptly collapsed onto, gripping the sheet around his slim hips. She brought the glass of water he had initially gotten out of bed to fetch and returned to him, perching on the edge of the bed. He sat up and gulped down the drink like a drowning man in need of air.

The clock read quarter past eight, and she sighed, her stomach rumbling. Duty called.

"I have to leave for work," she told him. He nodded and kissed her palm, closing his eyes and finally surrendering to a comfortable sleep.

Tonks watched him for a moment, in the early morning light. She brushed his hair back from his face, kissed him once on the forehead, and left.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Please leave your thoughts!**


End file.
